


The Wrong Side of Heaven

by FangirlAnxiety101



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Powers, Excited Jack Kline, F/M, Family Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Sam Winchester, Recovered Memories, Suspicious Dean, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, season 13 ep 13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlAnxiety101/pseuds/FangirlAnxiety101
Summary: Asmodeus discovers that Gabriel has a secret; he has a nephilim daughter, and the demon is hellbent on capturing her as well.However, she is not near as defenseless or yielding as he assumes her to be.Now it's a race against the clock for all involved; Who will be the one to take down Asmodeus? Can they stop Michael before he comes through the portal? Will the new nephilim addition be enough to help the boys win this time?(also title is from 'Wrong Side of Heaven' by Five Finger Death Punch, for anyone wondering.)





	1. The Secret

**Author's Note:**

> SOOO I really don't like posting multi-chapter stories before I've finished writing them, but I REALLY wanted to get this up here before Gabriel is shown again (SQUEEE!!!). Plus, my OCs wont leave me alone. So, here.
> 
> Also, chapters will be in third person alternating POVs. just a heads up.   
> AND I'm gonna try to post at least one chapter a week, but I can't promise anything.
> 
> CHEERS!

It started out as a normal day in hell for the archangel. Flinching every time footsteps went past his cell; the weak, brief struggle as the demons yanked him out of the grimy room and cuffed him; the nausea that rose in his throat as Asmodeus smirked at him, the table of thin metal rods laid out next to him, glistening threateningly. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t shout, couldn’t beg - all he could do was try to steady his breathing and swallow down the whimpers as one of the minions got to work.

Yep, just another one of those days.

They had been doing this for close to a month, as far as Gabriel could tell. They weren’t getting much from him. After all, archangels were programmed differently than other angels, they were made from different stuff. But for whatever reason, today was different than the rest. Perhaps they had tried something else, some other tool. Maybe they had tried using magic in addition to probing the archangel’s brain. Whatever the case, when Gabriel came out of whatever painful trance he had gone into when they started, Asmodeus was giving him that infuriating smirk from above, watching in satisfaction as the archangel made a pitiful attempt to glare and sit straight.

“Well, look who’s awake!” he crowed, crouching down to yank Gabriel’s head up. Gabriel grunted weakly, struggling to focus through the haze of pain that was always present after their sessions. His vision was blurred, and he wondered how long he had before he passed out again. Probably not long, considering he was seeing three of the colonel sanders look-alike in front of him.

“We found some interesting things today, angel. Wish you had told me that you had a daughter! I bet she’s as beautiful as she is powerful.” A flash of fear consumed Gabriel, and he shivered, eyes widening as he processed what Asmodeus was saying.

They knew.

They had finally found a way to hack him, and now they knew about the single most precious thing that he had managed to keep a secret all these years. His fear, however, quickly turned to anger as Asmodeus released him, chuckling at the influence he had over the archangel crouched before him. he tilted his head up and glared at the demon, a growl forming behind the stitches stuck in his lips. Asmodeus just shook his head, clicking his tongue at Gabriel’s reaction to the news.

“Now now, no need to worry! I would never hurt such a powerful ally. I bet she’ll make a great queen – of course, if she doesn’t cooperate, I may have to tap into her, just as I did to you. I just hope she’s smart enough to choose wisely.”

He turned away, walking out the door and whistling happily, mocking Gabriel. The door shut, and he made a muffled noise of frustration before slamming his fists on the ground, trying to stop the hot stinging sensation in his eyes. He knew it was only a matter of time before Asmodeus made his move and dragged her down here as well. If only he had been smarter, if only he had resisted.

What had he done?


	2. The Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ms. Beauregard, you shouldn’t be out here.” He said, crossing his arms. Jule barely heard him, the fear from earlier slamming to the front of her mind once more. Speechless, she could only focus on his – no, not his face. The demon’s face.
> 
> It was grotesque - gaping bloody holes where the eyes should be, a torn apart mouth dripping with blood, forever grinning at her evilly. The mouth tilted up at her shocked face, and he unclasped his arms, grabbing hers.
> 
> “Come now, darling. You don’t want to keep Asmodeus waiting, trust me. He could do the same to you.” He said, somehow winking at her with one black socket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAYYY i finally get to introduce my Sabriel child OC! everyone, meet Juliet Sage Beauregard, born as Samantha Juliet Winchester. she is 14, and has a spitfire attitude, mixed with complete stubbornness. If you read between the lines in this chapter, you can see bits and pieces of both her hunter and her feathered daddy :)
> 
> Again, i will be posting at least once a week for this story, but i hope to do so more often, if my muse will let me.
> 
> CHEERS!

This wasn’t the worst day Juliet had ever lived through, but it was shaping up to be the strangest.

She had woken up in an almost trance-like state, a feeling of confusion clouding her thoughts as she shuffled downstairs for breakfast. She opened the cabinet, grabbing a box of cereal.

She then proceeded to nearly jump out of her own skin as a hand latched onto her arm a few seconds later.

She whipped around to see a blonde woman looking at her in concern, taking the milk jug out of her hand. Jule vaguely wondered how that had gotten there. She could have sworn she hadn’t even poured her cereal yet…

The woman was speaking, her brow furrowed in concern – but for the life of her, Jule couldn’t hear the words. If only the strange, almost hypnotic gibberish she was hearing would stop…

“Hey!” the brunette gasped as she felt a hand hit her cheek, soft but firm enough to snap her out of whatever trance she had been in. She looked up, eyes wide as she tried to make sense of what she had just experienced.

“I, uh…” Jule stuttered, hand shaking in the woman’s grip. Lola just looked at her in concern, cupping the girl’s face and studying her.

“What happened, Juliet?” she said, eyes squinting as she noticed the dazed and startled look on the girl’s face. It was very unlike Juliet to be this spaced out; sure, she had her moments of zoning out, but they were few and far in between.

This…this was something different.

Juliet noticed the concerned look on her adoptive aunt’s face and huffed, pulling her arm out of the blonde’s grasp.

Lola had always worried a bit too much about the little things. Got a huge cut from playing soccer? Whatever, no big deal – we can heal it, easy. Got knocked out on a hunt for whatever reason? That’s okay, the damage will heal by itself – just give it time.

For whatever reason, Lola seemed to watch for mental distress rather than physical. Jule hadn’t bothered asking about it, knowing she was not going to get a clear, concise answer. It was weird, but it wasn’t weird enough to warrant an argument with the blonde.

 _Not like I would win, anyway,_ Jule thought, reaching for something that wouldn’t require milk, _she is a lawyer, after all._

“I asked you a question, you know.” Lola said, her face showing a teasing smile which contradicted the concern in her voice. She had grabbed paper towels to wipe up the giant puddle of milk from the table and floor, but most of her focus remained on the teenager next to her.

“I’m fine, I just…had a weird dream, I guess.”

“Oh? What was it about?” Lola asked casually. Jule quickly shook her head, trying to rid herself of the last remaining fog in her mind. Despite this, it lingered, as if waiting for its next chance to hijack her focus.

“Nothing…I don’t remember, I guess. I’ve gotta go get dressed.” Jule said, walking towards the stairs as she took another bite of her granola bar. She bounded up them as quietly as she could, knowing that if she stayed any longer, Lola would continue to ask questions.

She took her time getting dressed and packed up for school, knowing that today was not one of the days that Lola could wait around to corner her and ask more questions. She finally went downstairs when she heard the rumble of an engine fade off down the street. She swung her backpack up onto her shoulder, looking around one last time to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. When she was satisfied, she opened the fridge, grabbing her lunch and sliding out the front door, keys in hand.

She lived only a few blocks from the school, and knew she was actually leaving a bit early. This, coupled with how nice it was, convinced her to walk instead of riding her bike.

 _It’s probably for the best,_ she reasoned. After all, the last thing she needed was to space out again and end up getting hit by a car. _Maybe the fresh air will help clear my head._

The rest of the day was somehow both accelerated and slowed at the same time. She got strange looks from her friends as she paced in front of the school, waiting for the day to start. While it was only about 10 minutes, it seemed to drag out for an entire week.

In second period, she ended up having to ask one of her classmates for the algebra notes because between what seemed to be one second and the next, the class was over, the bell ringing for the next period.

As the day progressed, the fog came back, and she could feel her hunter instincts kicking in. She triple-checked her bag for her magic rapier before going to lunch. She debated taking it out and wearing it in its disguise, a bronze circlet. However, she convinced herself that she was being paranoid. With an annoyed snort, she closed her bag, running to catch up with her best friend.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You are acting really weird today.” Savannah commented once they sat down at their usual table, dipping three fries into her ketchup and eating them all at once.

“I don’t know, it’s just…weird. I can’t explain it.” Jule said, trying to ignore the raised hairs on the back of her neck and her churning stomach. “It’s probably nothing, just need some sleep is all.”

“OR to be checked into a looney bin!” Jule clenched her teeth, turning to where the tittering voice had come from. Savannah set a hand on her arm, stopping her from getting up. Last time she had picked a fight with one of the annoying preppy girls, she was suspended for a week for breaking one of their noses.

“They’re called mental institutions, you uncultured swine.” was all she could think to snap, glaring at the group standing next to their table.

“Of COURSE you would know that! After all, that’s where your parents ended up, right? Oh, I forgot, you don’t have any!” another round of laughter from the group. Jule could feel the ball of anger crawling up her throat, and struggled to contain it. She could feel Savannah’s grip on her arm tightening, could feel all the interested sets of eyes through the rest of the cafeteria watching, waiting.

“How’s your nose, Cassandra? Better yet, how much was it worth? Too much, based on how horrible it turned out.” Some ooohs and snorts of laughter came from the tables on either side of her.

Cassandra huffed, storming off to the table across the way. The rest of the group followed, but not before Jamie - the group leader who had spoken before - turned to her, a nasty sneer on her face.

“You think you’re SO special, Juliet. You just wait – I’m gonna get my dad to kick you out.”

“Good luck with that, you _skank_.” Savannah pulled her away, rushing out of the cafeteria before the other girl could say anything else. When they were a good distance away, Savannah whipped around, worry and annoyance showing on her delicate features.

“What the hell, Jule? Are you trying to get kicked out? You can’t talk to the principal’s daughter like that!”

“She is a bully and somebody needs to take her down a peg!” Jule snapped, almost shouting. After a moment, Savannah deflated, looking down at the tile floor.

“You want to keep going down this path? Fine. I can’t stop you. But I CAN’T risk getting kicked out – my parents would kill me. I am the ONLY person in my family who – for god’s sake, Jule, you know what I am! I can’t risk blowing my family’s cover.” She finished, her voice much lower, more tired. Juliet sighed.

“I’m sorry, Savvy, I am. It’s just, she’s so- “

“- So bossy and annoying, I know.” Her friend cut her off, looking back up, sadness crossing her features. “Just – don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted this out, ok?” and with that, she left, going back to the cafeteria.

Jule considered her options, feeling the strong urge to slump against the lockers and start crying, berating herself for risking her best friend’s life for a stupid vendetta. After all, Savannah was right – she was the child of a werewolf pack, the only child who had been deemed responsible enough to go to public school. Conversely, Lola often helped hunters, even let them stay the night to rest on some occasions. Their very friendship was risky – drawing attention to her friend was one of the worst things she could do.

However, before she could beat herself up any further, she felt the floor swaying beneath her feet. She fell on all fours, temporarily unsure which way was up and which was down. The muttered gibberish from that morning came back. This time, it was louder, more insistent.

Jule felt nauseous, but continued to focus on the words, and realized with a start that she could actually UNDERSTAND some of them now.

_please…protect yourself…. demons…. untouchable…_

To her, it sounded almost like a prayer, maybe even instructions. While she wanted to hear more, wanted to figure out what it meant, the nausea roiling around in her stomach became too great. She narrowly made it to the nearest bathroom, emptying what little food she had eaten into the trashcan by the door. The words tapered off, and Juliet collapsed, leaning her head against the side of the tall trashcan, its metal cool against her sweaty forehead.

When she finally gained back her mental coherency, she knew the right thing to do would be to call Lola; tell her that she needed to be picked up, and that they should perhaps put more warding on the house.

However, the moral instincts she had been taught from a young age were now clouded by another feeling; power, and complete certainty, the likes of which she had never felt before.

It was almost as if she was having a sort of out of body experience. She had heard Lola describe it enough times to know the basics. She felt a sense of confidence, clarity, and yet her fear and confusion lingered, pushed further back in her mind, but still present.

“What is happening to me?” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. She slowed her breathing, focusing on her heartbeat. When she was calm enough, she stood, slowly peeking around the corner, looking down the hallway. There was no one in sight.

She knew it for a fact now; there were demons nearby. She couldn’t understand how she knew this, but it was irrefutable to her in that moment. She had her phone on her, but her magically tempered rapier was still in her backpack. Should she try to sneak through the halls and get it? Or should she call Lola and hang tight?

Neither option sounded particularly appealing, but she knew the only weapon in the general vicinity that would at the very least injure a demon was the rapier. With a final great sigh to calm her nerves, she snuck out, staying close to the wall, keeping her footsteps low and light.

She didn’t get far. The second she turned a corner, she bumped into the principal, who glared at her sternly.

“Ms. Beauregard, you shouldn’t be out here.” He said, crossing his arms. Jule barely heard him, the fear from earlier slamming to the front of her mind once more. Speechless, she could only focus on his – no, not his face. The demon’s face.

It was grotesque - gaping bloody holes where the eyes should be, a torn apart mouth dripping with blood, forever grinning at her evilly. The mouth tilted up at her shocked face, and he unclasped his arms, grabbing hers.

“Come now, darling. You don’t want to keep Asmodeus waiting, trust me. He could do the same to you.” He said, somehow winking at her with one black socket.

She immediately acted on instinct, ripping her arm free and leaning down, pushing back up to shove the top of her head against his chin. Hard.

She turned and ran, hearing him swear in what sounded like Latin before going after her. Fortunately, her hunter training kicked in as she ran through the halls, expertly maneuvering around each corner to run towards the gym.

She knew the front door was closer, but she also knew they were expecting her to come out that way. She couldn’t hide and wait it out; the home economics room was locked, and the only other place with salt was the kitchen, and she did not intend to bring demons upon all the innocent people in the cafeteria.

 _Although it would be amusing to see the cheerleaders’ reactions,_ she thought as she huffed, turning another corner to burst through the gym doors. There were two boys playing basketball, who both promptly turned to look at her in alarm, taking in her disheveled appearance. She acted quickly, letting her mind come up with the most believable excuse it could muster.

“Shooter. In the building. Go to the cafeteria, tell them to lock the door. DO NOT go outside, understand?” while her commanding tone usually would have incited indignant spluttering, they were too shocked by her proclamation to question it. With one final look at the door behind her, both sprinted to the coach’s office, which had a door leading further into the school.

She turned around quickly, ducking as the door all but slammed free of its hinges, falling just short of her. When she looked up, there were three of them. She swore silently, channeling her energy and putting her hands in front of her.

“Manere Retrorsum!” she shouted, a small spark of satisfaction reaching her as they were all shoved back, sliding through the gaping hole where the doors used to be. Lola only taught her some basic protection spells, and she couldn’t do anything too strenuous without her crystals, but it would do. She whipped around, sprinting to the doors and all but throwing herself against them, running out into the football field.

 _Just need…to get home_ she thought. Focusing on her next turn, she was hypervigilant of every one of her surroundings. She got half a block away from the school, and she could feel the energy from the simple spell taking its toll. Her eyes fluttered, and she slowed, quickly looking for a more out of the way path to get back to the house. She found it, sprinting to the nearest fence and all but vaulting it, ending up in a backyard, just two houses behind hers.

 _So close, almost there_ she encouraged herself, grunting with the effort as she jumped the next wooden fence, ignoring the loose edges digging into her palms. As she landed, however, it seemed that her luck ran out; she stumbled as she landed on top of someone, shouting breathlessly as they grabbed both her arms, holding her back. She felt a needle plunge into her neck, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated! and, since the story is not entirely finished, feel free to give me suggestions for later chapters! (i have already finished about 6 other chapters after these first two, but any and all help is appreciated).
> 
> see you later, fellow hunters!


	3. The Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jule woke up on a stiff and too-short couch, groaning softly and squinting as she sat up. Her head was throbbing, and she felt the anger from before quickly rising within her as she remembered what happened to her. She looked around, jumping as she saw a man behind the desk just in front of her. She eyed him, snorting.
> 
> “This has got to be one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.” she muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter's kinda short, but i hope to have the next one edited and posted by tomorrow. still have no idea where im going with this, by the way. just a heads up.

Jule woke up on a stiff and too-short couch, groaning softly and squinting as she sat up. Her head was throbbing, and she felt the anger from before quickly rising within her as she remembered what happened to her. She looked around, jumping as she saw a man behind the desk just in front of her. She eyed him, snorting.

“This has got to be one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.” she muttered. The man smirked, snapping his fingers. This summoned two guards, who stood on either side of the crappy couch.

“Oh, this is no dream, darling. I’m 100% real.” He smirked at her, and she got the sudden urge to punch him in the face. “Name’s Asmodeus, by the way.” She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to stop herself from punching him before answering.

“Okay, great. Can I ask why Colonel Sanders and his group of demons kidnapped me? And your couch sucks, by the way.” she watched him curiously – he seemed both amused and annoyed by her response, although she couldn’t tell which emotion went with which sentence.

“You can quit pretending now, Samantha. I’ll say, I’m surprised at the restraint when you vaulted over that fence – expected you to dispatch a coupl’a demons before going down. You are dedicated to your alternate human self, I’ll give you that,” he leaned forward, studying her with a harsh, cold look. “but the jig’s up. I know what you are, and what you can do. All I ask is that you cooperate. Hell, you’ll even have your own palace, your own title.”

“Pfft-what!?” Juliet snorted. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling, despite the serious situation she was currently in. For some reason, it didn’t seem to register that she was in any danger. The out of body feeling was back, and the thought of this white-clad jerk threating her seemed ludicrous. “Okay, first of all, my name is JULE. Second of all, you have the wrong girl. I’m human – granted, I know some spells, but I’m no expert on anything. Honestly, I didn’t catch a single thing from what you just said that made ANY sense to me whatsoever.” She was still grinning slightly, the absurdity of the situation still clouding her fight or flight instincts.

A puzzled look came over the man’s face. Then, realization. He laughed, the sound grating, cruel. He stood up, sauntering around the desk towards her. She stood up, ready to fight, but the demons on either side of her had different plans. One grabbed her arm, pushing her back down onto the couch. The other one held a blade to her throat.

She glared at him hatefully as he reached down, grabbing her chin and studying her, a pleased hum coming from his upturned lips. He looked her in the eye, and she stood her ground, her gaze never wavering.

” You don’t know how powerful you really are.” It was spoken as a statement, not a question. Despite this, she replied with a steady voice.

“I. am. human.” she reiterated, spitting in his face. The demon who didn’t have a knife to her throat grabbed her hair, causing her to hiss in pain, but Asmodeus stopped him with a wave of his hand. The grip loosened but didn’t let go completely.

“Well, darling, I hate to be the one to break it to you, I really do- “

“No, you don’t.” she growled, baring her teeth at him.

“- but you are not human. Well, not completely. No, you are something much more powerful.” He sat back down, looking at her. After a minute, he explained further. “You, my dear, are part _Archangel_ , part human. And, if you cooperate, I can make you one of the most powerful beings in this universe.” He said.

His eyes hid a fire, a desire for power, Jule could see that much. She knew he would take power wherever he could get it; she had seen the same look in many of Lola’s clients in court, hell, she had seen it in Jamie’s eyes before. It was someone who used their personality to hide how weak and pathetic they really were. And she told him that much, a small grin on her features as she did so.

She tensed a bit as he stood up out of his chair quickly, nearly knocking it over. After a moment, he nodded to the guards, who grabbed her, pulling her out the door. She fought, kicked, yelled, spat, and generally tried to be as problematic as possible - if she was going down, she was gonna go down fighting. When they pushed her into a cell, she whipped back around, glaring at Asmodeus through the barred window.

“Welcome to your new quarters, sweetheart. Have your father show you around- just don’t expect him to explain anything to you.” He laughed, closing the metal plate behind him.


	4. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel waited tensely, craning his neck just enough to see the figure, but low enough to hide his bloodied lips. She turned, jumping as she saw him. He flinched unconsciously, knowing he wasn’t exactly making a good first impression. He snorted in amusement at the thought.
> 
> /Very funny, dad. So. Fucking. Funny of you./

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this is a pretty short chapter. I feel like there's something missing, but I can't for the life of me figure it out, so I guess i'll just leave it like this.  
> enjoy!

Gabriel twitched nervously, not knowing how much time had passed. Minutes, hours, days, he didn’t know. He waited, straining his ears, listening for anything unusual over the crazed mutterings of the tortured souls down the hall. Nothing.

He had tried to send signals, hoping that Jule would be able to understand, to trust enough in her senses to protect herself. However, his connection to her had weakened greatly over the years, and he wasn’t sure if they had gotten through to her. All he could do was wait, and listen.

Eventually, he heard something. Shuffling, yelling, some muttered swearing from the guard outside the door. His heart dropped as the door opened, a figure shoved in. The door slammed, and the steel plate on top of the door opened up. The figure stood up, huffing in anger and smoothing out her clothes.

“Welcome to your new quarters, sweetheart. Have your father show you around- just don’t expect him to explain anything to you.” He laughed, closing the metal plate behind him.

 Gabriel waited tensely, craning his neck just enough to see the figure, but low enough to hide his bloodied lips. She turned, jumping as she saw him. He flinched unconsciously, knowing he wasn’t exactly making a good first impression. He snorted in amusement at the thought.

_Very funny, dad. So. Fucking. Funny of you._

“What?” Gabriel froze, waiting for more. He flinched as a foot bumped against his, beckoning him for an answer. “What’s so funny?”

The voice was almost comically annoyed, waiting for an answer that wouldn’t be given. He looked up all the way, hesitantly, hoping his appearance wouldn’t scare her too much. Her anger quickly morphed to shock and curiosity. After gaping for a moment, she came closer, leaning down to get a better look. He looked down, feeling self-conscious in his current condition, especially in front of his daughter of all people.

She didn’t like that, though. He heard her sit next to him on the small stone bench, felt warm fingers press against his cheek. He dared to look towards her, and saw a look of deep thought on her face, as if she wanted to ask a question. Her fingers lifted, leaving the spot where they had been cold. He sat, waiting for what he knew was coming.

_Who are you?_

_Why is your mouth sewn shut?_

_Is he telling the truth?_

_Why did you leave me?_

The last one made a lump form in Gabriel’s throat. If only he could tell her, speak to her, explain why he had done it…

He was snapped out of his reverie by her question, one that was completely unexpected;

“Do you know sign language?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated. tell me what you think will/should happen next, id love to hear your opinions!


	5. The Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feeling that went through her the second his fingers pressed against her forehead was indescribable; it was something between an electric current and an ocean wave, the feeling of pure-barely-contained-power washing through her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt a sense of familiarity – a bond, almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is where the father/daughter fluff starts. they're just so CUTE :)
> 
> also, i tried my best with what little i know about sign language. i know its not an exact language, and Gabriel wanted to get to the point, hence the choppy sentences. nevertheless, feel free to make any suggestions about how i should portray it.
> 
> *finger spells* E N J O Y ! *exclamation point is just me screeching at the end* XD

The baffled look the man gave her almost made her laugh, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from going back to his lips, the blood caked onto the stitches. He looked like, well, _hell_ , and Jule couldn’t think of anything other than how to communicate with him, to figure out who he was and why he was here. Maybe, if she could figure out a solution to this one problem, they could get out of here. After all, if what Asmodeus had said was true, she may be powerful enough to break whatever warding sigils were painted on the walls.

He squinted at her for a moment, prompting Jule to speak once more.

“I’m not the best at it myself, but I know enough. I think it would be easier than a game of charades, don’t you?”

The man exhaled sharply through his nose, the closest he could get to a laugh at the moment. Looking back up at her, he nodded, before reaching up, his hand inches from her head. He looked at her, as if asking for permission. She nodded slightly, giving it. she was uncertain as to what his intentions were, but she felt she could trust him.

The feeling that went through her the second his fingers pressed against her forehead was indescribable; it was something between an electric current and an ocean wave, the feeling of pure-barely-contained-power washing through her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt a sense of familiarity – a bond, almost.

As soon as it happened, it stopped, and Jule blinked rapidly before looking to him questioningly. He leaned back against the wall on one side of the bench, looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Raising his hands, he gestured; _Memory transfer. Signs rusty. Taught by girl years ago._

“Oh.” She said, unable to come up with an actual response to the information she was given. “Well, what’s your name?” He paused a moment, as if debating something. A moment later, he spelled out;

 _G A B R I E L. A R C H angel._ He finger spelled the first part before switching back to gestures. After seeing a guarded look cross her face at this information, he quickly gestured something else; _Don’t worry – won’t hurt you._

“Well, that’s comforting,” she snorted, sliding to prop herself against the wall on the other side of the bench. She pulled her knees up, wrapping her lanky arms around her legs. “I haven’t exactly had the best history with angels.”

He responded quickly, gestures more purposeful;

_I can Guess – call A B O M I N A T I O N, try kill?_

“Yep, sounds about right.” She sighed, head thudding against the wall.

_Yes. Do not like N E P H I L I M. Not allowed._

“Nephilim? That’s a half human, half angel, right? At least, that’s what Colonel Sanders out there described me as.” Jule tilted her head as Gabriel’s lips twitched, a small attempt at a smile.

_You really are my kid. But look more like mortal father._

“So he wasn’t lying? I actually am a Nephilim?” a nod. She leaned forward slightly, voice lowering to almost a whisper. “Is Sam Winchester really my da- my mortal dad?” she asked, watching the archangel across from her intently. His eyes widened slightly, and his gestures became sloppy, although Jule still got the idea.

_Who told?_

“Lola. She…I kept asking, and she thought it best I at least know _something_ so that I wouldn’t go looking by myself and get into trouble.” She chuckled, sadness taking over her features. “She’s gonna freak when she sees I’m missing. I just hope she doesn’t get herself killed to try and get me back.”

_Probably will._

“Sooo helpful.” she huffed, earning another lip twitch. They sat in companionable silence for a while, before something occurred to the girl.

“Hey, he said I am really powerful, one of the most powerful beings in the universe. He wasn’t lying about that either, was he? I felt something…something back at the school, before I got chased.”

_True. Feeling was me. Trying to warn you._

“Warn me about what? The demons?” he nodded, observing her. He got up, walking to the corner of the cell, beckoning her to follow. She obeyed, coming closer. She noticed she was almost as tall as him; maybe an inch or two shorter at most. He noticed her looking and nudged her.

 _I know. Short. You got moose looks._ She grinned, feeling her chest tighten at the look of fondness that passed across his bloodied face. He grabbed her hand, leading it up the wall, towards a sigil. She jolted, feeling the power of it as she brushed it with her fingers.

“Woah, what is that?” she turned her head to look at him.

_Archangel warding. Can’t break. You can._

“I-I don’t…I’ve never…” she trailed off, arm falling as she felt the weight of everything that had happened finally come crashing down.

She had scared her best friend away, she didn’t know what had become of the other students once she left, Lola was probably freaking out back home, and she had failed to get safe. It seemed like everything she had done today had gone wrong. She feared if she tried to break the warding, she would hurt the already weak and vulnerable archangel next to her. She wasn’t sure she could handle another failure today – it may just be enough to break her.

She felt a gentle shove to her shoulder, and met a pair of stern, golden eyes.

_Stop. Guilt not useful. S A M does same thing._

She nodded, swallowing her nerves and looking back up at the sigil. After a moment, she looked back to him.

“Okay, I’ll do it.

…But I’m getting those stitches out first.”


	6. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, now, darling,” he drawled, clamping his arm tighter around the struggling girls throat. She gasped for air, stilling. Gabriel clenched his jaw, a low growl bubbling past his lips. 
> 
> “Should’ve known better than to put you two together for so long. Ah well, won’t make that mistake again at least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh i wanted to get this posted days ago, but writer's block got to me!  
> also, because of the aforementioned issue i had, this isnt exactly the best chapter. i tried, but even in the beginning of the story i wasnt sure how i was gonna make this work. so, readers beware! crappy writing ahead!
> 
> on the bright side, im working on another Sabriel fic. should be posted in the next day or so, so stay tuned!

They took the guard posted outside the cell by surprise, stunning the demon long enough for Gabriel to smite it with his newfound (albeit small) reserves of angelic grace. Jule poked her head out, stepping forward as Gabriel nodded. Gesturing to the left, Gabriel trailed his hand along the wall, staying close to its abrasive stone surface. Jule followed, doing the same.

The next hallway they came across was filled with tortured souls in cells on either side. Turning to Jule, Gabriel could see she had the same idea upon seeing this. They went to opposite sides of the dim hallway, yanking the cells open with a little help from their powers.

They moved quickly, not wanting to come into contact with the souls, or wanting to hang around long enough for the demons to catch up. When they got to the end of the first hallway, they continued on, forgoing the next set of cells. While Gabriel could sense Jule’s hesitance to leave them locked up, he knew they did not have time to free any more.

He grabbed her hand, leading her through the maze of hallways, each one just as full and dreary as the first one they had come across. Gabriel smote every demon they came across, not wanting to take any chances of simply leaving them unconscious. They eventually got to a smaller clearing in the hallways, only a few rows away from where he knew his powers would work.

Gabriel grunted as he was slammed against the nearest wall, realizing with horror that they were his own powers.

Asmodeus had found them.

In seconds, there were five demons surrounding the archangel, while Asmodeus himself grabbed Jule, pressing an archangels blade, _his_ archangel blade, to his daughter’s throat.

“Now, now, darling,” he drawled, clamping his arm tighter around the struggling girls throat. She gasped for air, stilling. Gabriel clenched his jaw, a low growl bubbling past his lips. He could sense how weak she is from breaking the warding and opening the cell doors, and knew how difficult it would be for her to break free of the demon’s grasp.

“Should’ve known better than to put you two together for so long. Ah well, won’t make that mistake again at least.” He turned to look at Gabriel, who, while completely surrounded, only seemed angry at his daughter’s current predicament. “Tell you what, pet; I know I can’t actually kill this little flower of yours. However, I COULD give her the same treatment as you.” He moved the blade up slightly, tapping the end of it against her lips. She whimpered, wheezing slightly as she struggled to move away from it.

Gabriel shot up, only managing to get a few feet before the demons surrounding him grabbed him, forcing him to his knees. They snickered, and Gabriel could feel the righteous fury that only archangels possessed rising within him, despite how little grace he currently had. The white clad prince hummed thoughtfully, moving the blade back under her chin.

“You go back quietly, and I’ll just shove this one into a different cell, no stitches required. Deal?”

Gabriel was pissed, but he wasn’t going to put his own craving for revenge over her own safety. Before he could make a decision though, Jule began squirming again, only managing to loosen the demons grip slightly.

“No no no, please! Let me go!” she pleaded, a sickening gurgle leaving her throat as Asmodeus tightened his arm once more. She clawed at his arm, eyes frantic. Gabriel opened his mouth to agree to the deal, but he stopped himself.

There. Deep inside, a pulse of sorts. His grace was reacting to her.

He didn’t sense fear, though; only determination and righteous anger, the same as him. he looked up, catching a glimpse of it in her deceivingly wide eyes. He smirked, and the demon furrowed his brow, trying to determine what the archangel was thinking. He let out a broken chuckle, which turned into a coughing fit. When he looked back up, he simply looked at Asmodeus and said;

“Sorry, colonel. No deal.”

Then, all hell broke loose.

The scream she let out was deafening, almost stunning the archangel himself. It threw the other demons backwards, made the demon prince collapse to the ground behind her, and reverberated down the hallways on all sides. Gabriel could tell immediately that she had channeled _something_ from within herself - the tone clearly indicated that she had just used part of her soul’s angelic voice, which was deafening in its own right for any angel. On a Nephilim, though, which contained such a wide range of emotions, well….it was incapacitating for almost anything within earshot, to say the least.

Within seconds Gabriel was on his feet, snatching the angel blade off the ground to obtain the rest of his power and dragging Jule down the nearest hallway. Once they turned the corner, Gabriel let go, closing his eyes and holding the blade tightly in both hands.

“What- “the teen was cut off as he opened his eyes once more, now glowing a bright gold. He could feel her fascinated gaze as the archangel became outlined in a soft, golden glow. Right as the apex of his power came back to him, he reached out, grabbing her arm.

Between one blink and the next, they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little easter egg for those who actually read my rambling author's notes; the next chapter is going to be from Sam's pov. yay!
> 
> until next time, hunters! also, HAPPY APRIL FOOLS/EASTER/MISHAPOCALYPSE!!!!


	7. The Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He opened his mouth to shout for Dean, or even Cas. The sound abruptly turned to a whimper as the pain seemed to almost dive inwards, digging through his mind. He clamped his hands over his ears as the echo of the scream from before came back. He fell out of the chair, curling into a fetal position on the floor as the pain overtook him.
> 
> He must have passed out from the pain, because when he came to, he was still sprawled out on the floor, hands over his ears. He let out a few shaky breaths, fighting down the nausea that came with being conscious once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i got this huge burst of motivation to write last night, which is good because before then i had no drive to finish this chapter whatsoever. THANKS WRITERS FOR THE ANGER AT TONIGHTS EPISODE, YOU JACKASSES!
> 
> ahhh im so excited with how nicely this plotline is coming along! it would basically be writing itself if i had any energy to get the words on the page (i know, i know, *sigh*. excuses, excuses. sue me).
> 
> anyway, enjoy! or not, i guess. after all, sam is in pain.

He woke up to a shriek so piercing that he fell out of bed, swearing as a wave of dizziness came over him.

When the echo of the horrendous noise finally left enough for him to get up, he immediately went over to his door, opening it. He expected to see Dean’s door open, him and Cas (Sam knew they slept together now, although they would never admit it) to have the same stunned and confused looks on their faces.

Nope. No one else was awake.

Sam even peeked inside his brother’s room, just to make sure they hadn’t left at some point. Both were still there, arms and legs entangled as they faced each other. Sam snorted quietly, rolling his eyes as he shut the door softly. He was glad that they had finally sorted their shit out, but sometimes he just couldn’t help the urge to completely embarrass them both by pointing it out one of these days.

With no explanation, and apparently no other witnesses to the sound either, he walked out to the library, gun in hand. He walked slowly, peeking his head in every room, listening for the slightest sound that would indicate an intruder. He heard nothing.

He walked back to his room, trying to convince himself it was a nightmare. He was shaken, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had a nightmare like this; hell, it wouldn’t even be the worst type of nightmare he’d ever had. What confused him about this particular incident, though, was just how REAL the scream sounded, how loud it had been. As much as he wanted another explanation for it, he couldn’t find one. So, he resigned himself to researching more about how to open the portal, knowing there was no way he was falling back asleep.

He shuffled back down the hallway from his room towards the kitchen, making a pot of coffee and pouring a cup for himself before settling himself at one of the library tables, a stack of books next to him. He skimmed the titles, choosing one as he took a sip of the caffeinated heaven in his mug.

This particular book was on the seal of Solomon, one of the ingredients they had yet to acquire. As he flipped through to look for the chapter he had decided on, another page caught his eye. Pausing in his task, he flipped back, opening the page. After a moment of reading, he realized it was about Sheba, the king’s wife.

Sam had researched her once before, before Jack had been born; she had been a Nephilim. As he skimmed the page, he felt his vision go blurry around the edges. At first, he chalked it up to being tired, shaking himself out of his reverie to gulp down some more coffee. After a minute, however, he felt himself slipping into a trance of sorts. His vision blackened, his scalp tingling. It was almost as if he was being hypnotized, his consciousness slowly fading away, his body slipping back into sleep mode. However, right as he seemed to be on the edge of unconsciousness, pain shot up the back of his head. He hissed, whipping around, expecting to see someone, something. He was alone.

Before he could question it more or think of another explanation for his paranoia, the pain came back, more intense this time. He groaned in pain, head falling between his knees as the pain migrated from the back of his head to the front. He could feel his heart pounding, the faint feeling of concern from before now bordering on full blown panic. He had no idea what was wrong, and he was the only one awake. He opened his mouth to shout for Dean, or even Cas. The sound abruptly turned to a whimper as the pain seemed to almost dive inwards, digging through his mind. He clamped his hands over his ears as the echo of the scream from before came back. He fell out of the chair, curling into a fetal position on the floor as the pain overtook him.

He must have passed out from the pain, because when he came to, he was still sprawled out on the floor, hands over his ears. He let out a few shaky breaths, fighting down the nausea that came with being conscious once more. He moved slowly, pulling himself onto all fours before reaching for the chair, using it to slowly hoist himself off the floor. Blinking the remaining black spots out of his vision, he looked around. Nothing else was out of place. He checked himself out for any physical injuries – he found nothing.

When the initial survival instincts wore off, the anxiety took over, making Sam feel like he had drunk a gallon of coffee rather than a cup. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking, an utter sense of urgency and _wrongness_ consuming him. He looked around once more, trying to see if he missed anything. The book was still lying open, his almost empty coffee cup still there. There was no one else in the room, and yet he felt like he should be running.

Panting softly as he tried to stave off the oncoming panic attack, he quickly walked back to his room, collapsing onto his knees in front of the bed. He hung his head as he tried to control his breathing. When he deemed it to be at an acceptable rate, he nodded, having decided his next course of action.

10 minutes later, he was dressed, a note to the other two laid on his pillow. He slid out of his room, closing the door; he hoped this would extend the amount of time he had before they realized he had left on his own. Walking down the hallway towards the garage, he could still feel his frayed nerves, the feeling of underlying anxiety never leaving him.

“Sam?” he froze, hearing a familiar voice behind him. Turning around slowly, he looked at the confused angel standing a few feet away, right in front of his brother’s door. Sam swore internally, his mind racing to come up with an excuse for his current appearance; dressed, packed and absolutely wrecked by nerves. Cas stared at him, doing his infamous head tilt as he studied the hunter.

“What are you doing? Why are you awake?” he stepped closer, prompting the taller man to take a step back. This earned him a concerned look from the angel, his brows furrowing. Sam took a deep, albeit shaky breath before answering.

“I’m just, uh…I couldn’t sleep. Thought I would go take a drive to clear my head.”

“Why do you need a bag to go driving?” Cas asked, his expression never wavering. When he got no response, he continued. “Sam, what is going on? Dean and I, we can help- “

“No, Cas, you can’t.” he rushed out, feeling almost breathless as the feeling of _need to go, need to leave_ came back. The problem was, he didn’t know where. He huffed in frustration, turning back around and walking quicker down the hallway.

“Sam, wait!” Cas called, his tone low as he tried not to wake the other hunter. Sam didn’t stop, turning the corner to the garage. “What are you doing?”

“I need – I need to get – “Sam sighed shakily, running a hand through his hair as he whipped back around to face the angel, who stopped abruptly in surprise. “… _somewhere._ ”

“Where, Sam? Where do you need to go?” Cas asked, voice calm as he tried to reason with the disheveled hunter.

“I…I don’t know.” Sam whispered, eyes staring ahead at nothing. He dropped his hand to his side, eyes meeting the angel’s.

“I can go with you. Just us, if that’s what you want. I’ll deal with Dean’s reaction to the news myself. I don’t know what happened, but you shouldn’t go out by yourself, not like this.” Cas stepped forward, reaching out to squeeze Sam’s shoulder. After a long moment of silence, Sam nodded. Cas’s expression changed to one of relief, his hand dropping from the other man’s shoulder.

“Alright.” Sam said, nodding again. He grabbed a set of keys off the worktable next to him, walking towards a green ford explorer that looked like it had seen better days. Cas gave him a confused look, prompting Sam’s lips to quirk up slightly.

“We’re already going without him. I’m pretty sure he would kill both of us if we took his car, too.” Cas’s face dawned with understanding, and he nodded.

“That is true.” he mused, sliding into the passenger’s seat. Sam gestured to his bag, then to the trunk. Cas nodded, understanding the wordless explanation. After a moment of shuffling from the back, Sam spoke.

“Hey, Cas? can you come here a second? I think the trunk is jammed.”

“Of course.” Cas said, coming around the back of the vehicle. As soon as he saw the painted sigil on the trunk, he turned to Sam, eyes wide.

“Sam, don’t.” he said, tone holding an edge of anger at the trick. The hunter gave him a sad look, slamming his hand against the sigil. With a flash of light and a shout of protest, the angel was blasted away, most likely all the way across the state.

“Sorry, Cas. I’ve got to do this alone.” he whispered into nothingness, starting the car and pulling out into pitch black nighttime with no real destination in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact; the truck he took is based off my mom's old car :) i just couldnt resist.
> 
> I also have another conundrum i want y'all to clear up for me; should i do Dean and Cas's chapter next, or Jule and Gabriel's? either way, there is going to be fluff. comment on here or tell me on my instagram, chaossiren103
> 
> I wish you all luck with tonight's episode, fellow hunters! stay tuned!


	8. The Beach House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a matter of seconds, they were in a completely different setting, the mud beneath now a carpet, the biting cold now a comfortably warm temperature.
> 
> “Welcome back, Sammy.” he chuckled, watching her as she looked around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yassss! we are getting closer to the fluff, for both parties!
> 
> anyway, y'all voted for this chapter first, so Dean and Cas are going to be in the next chapter. poor Cas - i hope the sigil didn't do too much harm!
> 
> just a note; the first part is Jule's pov, second part is Gabriel's. i considered making them separate chapters, but both seemed too short to do that. I hope it isn't too confusing for you guys!
> 
> enjoy!

# Juliet

Cold was the first feeling she registered. Well, cold and wet, to be exact.

She broke the surface, gasping for air and looking around frantically. She feared that Gabriel might not have made it out, that she would have to continue on alone. The thought of leaving him behind for Asmodeus to torture more made her stomach twist in knots.

She laughed giddily as she saw a figure surface about 5 feet away, coughing as he tried to speak with his wrecked voice.

“Saman-tha” he rasped, voice breaking into gasps as he looked around frantically. The name confused her, but she responded none the less.

“Here,” she called, voice breathless from laughing with what little oxygen she had, “I’m here.”

She felt him grab her arm, leading her forward. She kicked until she felt semi solid ground below her, lifting herself out of the water, Gabriel in tow. They crawled up the muddy bank, collapsing next to each other as they tried to catch their breath.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asked gently, checking her over. She nodded, sitting up. She watched as he looked around. They had ended up in the middle of a slow moving river, the bank on either side surrounded by trees, which cast shimmering shadows across the muddy ground as the moonlight filtered through them. They were _free;_ they had made it.

“Okay,” he began, looking up at the sky. Jule turned her attention back to him, waiting. “I think I can make it.”

“Make it where?” she asked, suddenly feeling anxious. She knew that, while the portal had closed behind them, Asmodeus was probably going to be opening a new one any minute to look for them. They had to get out, and fast.

“The Beach House.” he replied simply, holding out his hand. She took it, noticing how cold and dirty her fingers were, the silt of the river embedded under her fingernails. “Hold on.”

# Gabriel

In a matter of seconds, they were in a completely different setting, the mud beneath now a carpet, the biting cold now a comfortably warm temperature. Jule stood up shakily, looking around.

“Welcome back, Sammy.” he chuckled, watching her as she looked around. She faced him, her expression one of confusion. “This is where you were born.” he smiled softly, remembering.

“What? Really?” she said, eyes widening a fraction more as she studied her surroundings. A huff of laughter escaped him as he looked at her.

She was beautiful, Asmodeus had predicted that much. Even covered in mud and soaked to the bone, she was ever lively, walking through the house but not touching anything, for fear of getting anything dirty. Despite this, he realized they should probably get cleaned up and dry. The cold may not kill either of them, but Juliet had yet to realize how much energy her powers took to use, and Gabriel was still weak.

He walked forward, past the living area, taking a left down the first hallway. Juliet followed uncertainly, drinking in every last detail. He knocked lightly on one of the doors to the left, turning to her.

“Go get cleaned up – everything you need should be in the closet.”

“What about clothes?”

“Closet.” He repeated simply, an amused smirk forming on his lips as she scrunched her nose. “Its magic. This place – I built every last detail with my own energy, my grace. Convenient, isn’t it?” he asked, opening the door for her.

“That’s one way to put it.” she grumbled, walking into the large illuminated space. He chuckled, sensing that Lola must have had quite a time trying to raise the stubborn, sarcastic girl in front of him.

“I’ll do the same. Just hang out in the living area when you’re done– it’s easy to get lost here.” he said. Before he could close the door, she poked her head back out.

“Hey, why did you call me Samantha back there?” she asked, her tone one of both suspicion and confusion. She quickly added, “Asmodeus called me the same thing.” he smiled at her, rubbing a thumb along her jaw affectionately as he studied her.

“Because that’s your name. Well, your real name, I guess I should say. I’m guessing Lola didn’t stick with it, in order to keep you safe.” he said, figuring he was right when her expression turned to one of understanding. He walked back down the hallway, before hearing her call out something else;

“What’s my full name?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re clean, kiddo.” He replied, not missing a beat. He smirked in amusement at the indignant huff he got in response to his dismissive answer.

Yep. That was going to be a fun story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments brighten my day, so dont be shy!
> 
> follow me on instagram at ChaosSiren103 - i may start adding polls for this fanfic in my story if it calls for it! also, another OC collage is being posted soon, so stay tuned!
> 
> cheers, fellow hunters! see you next time!  
> Chaos


	9. The Phone Call(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Cas –
> 
> Something came up. Something personal. I know you two would want to go with, and it’s probably stupid for me to go alone right now, but I need to figure all this out first. Don’t try to look for me – I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I’m ready. – Sam
> 
> Cas frowned, looking up from the note to Dean, who was staring at the ground with a thoughtful look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter was a BITCH to complete. my muse decided to take a vacation, my depression decided to visit me, and school has been hell.  
> what i'm trying to say is - this chapter isn't the best. Bear with me, it gets better. i promise.  
> on the bright side, there is some subtle destiel fluff! yay!

Dean knew something was wrong the second he woke up. He just couldn’t tell exactly _what_ was wrong.

He stepped out into the hallway, squinting against the lights bleeding in from the library on his left. It was silent. This, of course, immediately sent alarm bells through his head. He wordlessly stepped back in to grab his gun from under the pillow, then snuck forward towards the library.

 He quickly found the evidence of Sam’s early morning; the still open book, the nearly empty coffee mug. He frowned as he picked up the mug - it was cold, signaling it had been there awhile. He set it down quietly, planning to scour the whole bunker, when he heard a knock at the steel door to the outside.

Readying his gun, he walked up the spiral staircase, flinching at the cold metal against his bare feet. His eyes focused only on the door. He silently counted to three before yanking it open, promptly freezing as he recognized the figure in the early morning light.

“Cas? What – “he cut off as the angel pushed past him. It was then that Dean realized the angel was completely soaked from head to toe. Looking back out the door, Dean saw a rusty red pickup truck, and immediately deduced that it wasn’t one of theirs. Weirded out about this turn of events, he frowned, closing the bunker door before racing down the stairs to catch up to the disgruntled angel.

He grabbed Cas’s shoulder, a snort of laughter almost leaving him as the angel whipped around to him, his face the equivalent of a pissed off 4-year-old’s. “What happened?”

“Sam happened.” he said simply, continuing his journey back to the bedrooms to get some new clothes. The sigil banishing had taken most of his strength, so he couldn’t just poof his clothes dry. Even then, it’s not like he minded wearing Dean’s clothes; after all, he usually only got to wear them at night, when curled up against the hunter in their closed off bedroom.

Yes, a faded Led Zeppelin shirt sounded good right about then.

“What the hell’re you talkin’ about?” Dean said incredulously, watching in amusement as Cas shucked his trench coat off, shivering at the lost layer.

“Go check his room. I can guarantee you he won’t be there.” Cas said, his voice holding absolute certainty as he continued to strip. Dean huffed but relented, handing Cas some dry clothes before going to check out his brother’s room.

Sure enough, it was empty. The bedside lamp was on, the sheets were ruffled, but there was no sign of Sam. Feeling the bed itself, Dean could tell he had been gone for some time. It was then that he noticed the small, folded notecard on the pillow. He picked it up and walked back to his room.

“Hey,” he said, smiling fondly at the angel as he admired the new clothing. Cas rolled his eyes, grabbing the slip of paper that Dean had just waved in the air. He opened it, the rustling sound almost deafening in the suddenly quiet room.

**Dean, Cas –**

**Something came up. Something personal. I know you two would want to go with, and it’s probably stupid for me to go alone right now, but I need to figure all this out first. Don’t try to look for me – I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I’m ready. – Sam**

Cas frowned, looking up from the note to Dean, who was staring at the ground with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Dean?” No response. “DE- “

“Yea, yea! I know,” he huffed, carding his fingers through his hair as he tried to keep his panic and anger at bay. “What the hell does that even MEAN? ‘Something personal’ – like what? We don’t have any friends, they’re all dead!”

“I don’t know, Dean, but he was determined enough to go on his own that he used the banishing sigil on me. Luckily, I only ended up about an hour away in a state park.”

“And had an encounter with some water sprites?” Dean snarked, trying to switch to his usual defense tactic of humor to distract himself. Cas gave him a confused yet stern look, shaking his head slightly.

“A lake, Dean. I ended up in a lake.” Dean sighed, electing to ignore Cas’s misinterpretation of his humor. He sat down on the bed, scrubbing his hands down his face before looking up at the seraph.

“What the hell happened, Cas?”

Cas explained, telling Dean that he had heard Sam open the door to check on them. Suspicious, he had snuck out, waiting to see what would happen. He described how Sam had collapsed onto the floor with his hands over his ears. Cas had gone to wake Dean, but heard Sam waking up before he could, so he came back to wait, worried of leaving him alone.

He had been right to stay, though, his voice getting steadily quieter as he explained about Sam packing a bag, then pretending to let Cas come with him before blasting him away.

By the time he was done, Dean’s jaw was clenched, and he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Cas put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, counting it as a win when the hunter finally stopped tensing and closed his eyes in order to calm down. A minute later, he pulled out his phone, dialing a number.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him.”

“Dean, I don’t think he- “

_Hello?_

Cas stared at the phone in surprise as somebody actually picked up on the other end. Dean tightened his grip on the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Sam, you mind explaining to me what the _hell_ you were thinking?”

_Dean, I needed to do this alone. And Cas-_

“-Is right here. Really, man? A _banishing sigil_?” a long sigh, and the sound of some shuffling on the other end of the phone. Then a tired, regretful voice.

_I’m sorry Cas, I really am. I just – I knew you wouldn’t let me go alone, and I didn’t want to wake Dean up or hurt you by trying to pick a fight._

“Sam, what are you going to do?” Cas asked hesitantly, afraid of what answer he might get.

“Why go alone?” Dean pressed, waiting expectantly. When he got no answer, he huffed a breath of frustration, hanging his head for a minute before speaking. “Listen, I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but it _isn’t safe_ to go out on your own.”

_Dean –_

“BUT,” Dean cut him off, “if it’s this important for you to go alone, at least – just call every couple of hours, okay? Last thing I need is to worry about you even more than I currently am.”

_You – you’re letting me go?_ Dean nodded before realizing Sam couldn’t see him.

“Yea. Don’t be stupid, okay?”

_I…okay. Call you later, I guess._ And with that, he hung up.

Dean dropped the phone on the bed next to him, staring straight ahead. Cas looked at him worriedly.

“Dean, we aren’t really going to…. let him go in his condition, are we?” Dean shook his head slowly, pulling Cas up with him as he stood up.

“Nope. I’ve got his gps turned on. C’mon, we need to go before he _does_ do something even more stupid.”

 

Sam POV

He shivered, leaning against the truck as he fiddled with his phone, the device seeming almost miniature in his hands.

He knew something, he just…. couldn’t remember _what._ His vision had started blurring as soon as he got past the Nebraskan border, not too long after Dean had called him.  He had quickly pulled over at the nearest gas station, parking in a darkened corner and stumbling out to collapse against the truck. He tried to stay quiet, knowing that he wouldn’t be making a very good impression on anybody who saw a guy as ruffled looking as he was leaning against a truck making weird sounds.

After the initial confusion and swimming feeling in his head had passed, he realized he remembered something - a number. After a minute of pondering, typing the number into the notes on his phone, he realized it was the same length as a phone number.

Was it stupid to call a number when he wasn’t even sure where it had come from? Absolutely. But he was out of ideas - He hadn’t been sure where he was going to begin with, and clearly his brain knew more than he was processing (although that may have just been his thought process because of whatever kind of seizure he’d had back at the bunker). Either way, he decided to give it a shot, punching in the number and putting the phone up to his ear. After a couple rings, it picked up.

_Hello?_ a female voice asked, sounding suspicious. Sam couldn’t blame her – he had been surprised she had picked up at all.

“Hi, I uh…” Sam stuttered, unsure of what to say. He decided to start simple. “My name is Sam Winchester, I…. I found this number in my contacts? I just wanted to know who this is.” Sam nodded to himself, hoping that didn’t sound TOO strange to the woman.

_Sam?_ she said, disbelief and shock coloring her tone. Sam perked up slightly, the tone sparking something else in his brain.

“You know who I am?” Sam asked, cringing at the word choice. He knew he needed to tread carefully if he wanted to have any chance of finding this woman – she would be able to explain what was going on, she _had_ to be able to.

_Yes, I – wait, do you remember?_ he stuttered again in uncertainty unsure of how to respond to that. He heard some muttering from the other side of the phone, then another question, one that completely baffled him.

_Do you have the pop tarts?_

“Do I –what?!” he asked, feeling more and more confused with each passing second.

What the hell was she talking about? What did pop tarts have to do with anything? “Listen, I don’t know what the hell is going on. This number – I just remembered it, and not three hours ago I had some kind of seizure, and I feel like I NEED to go somewhere, like there is something I’m missing, but I….” he cut off, feeling the anxiety come back at the mention of whatever was missing. He took a shaky breath, and despite sounding crazy, he could almost FEEL the sincere sadness and pity in the silence that followed, rather than baffled confusion and frustration. Then again, she HAD just asked him if he had pop tarts which, in Sam’s opinion, had NO correlation to the conversation whatsoever.

_Okay, Sam,_ she said, voice low and urgent, _where are you now? What state?_

“I – I just passed from Kansas into Nebraska. Why?” he had no idea why he was telling her all this, but the desperation of needing to figure out what he was FORGETTING seemed to be enough for his brain to trust her.

_Okay, so I have no idea how you are still up and walking after what just happened, but I need you to listen to me, okay?_ her voice was smooth yet uncertain, as if she was struggling to keep calm.

“Mhm.” he mumbled, suddenly feeling sleepy. What time had he gotten up, anyway? Maybe-

_HEY! You still with me, Winchester?_ the exclamation and use of his last name brought him back to his current situation.

“What – what the hell is happening to me?” he whispered, talking more to himself than to her. He heard her sigh over the phone, then some scribbling. Then,

_I can’t explain it over the phone. Just – listen to me, okay? I’m going to send you an address. Call someone to pick you up, and go there. You shouldn’t be driving in your condition, okay?_ he nodded slightly, his brain swimming again.

“Uh, yeah. Understood.” he said, trying to make sure his voice didn’t slur. He just felt so damn _tired_ , so confused. She talked to him for another minute, gave him the address, and he hung up. He sighed heavily, looking at the phone once more. Going to speed dial, he pressed the number at the top of the list.

_Sam! You okay?_ his brother sounded panicked, and Sam snorted.

“Uh, apparently not, although that isn’t my own opinion.” he said, leaning his head back against the truck. Just stay awake a little longer, he urged himself.

_What the hell are you talking about? Where are you?_ Sam sighed, looking up at the gas station sign.

“Bucky’s Burgers, gas station off Highway 103 North. I’m sure you’ve already hacked into my gps, so I won’t explain any further.” He heard Dean mutter something, but he was too out of it to care how pissed he sounded. “Look, just promise me something, okay?”

_What?_ The elder Winchester managed to ground out. Sam could just envision how white Dean’s knuckles were on the steering wheel in that moment.

“I’m gonna send you an address. When you get here, we HAVE to go there, okay? No going back to the bunker.” He heard some muffled arguing on the other side of the phone, but he could hear the telltale silence that signaled Dean was about to relent.

Sure enough; _Alright. Send it, and STAY THERE, okay?_

Sam quickly agreed, hanging up.

He got back into the car, checking the address. She hadn’t just put the address though; there was another sentence below it.

_By the way, my name is Lola. The password is ‘only the ones with blue and purple squiggles’. See you soon, hopefully intact._

He frantically typed in the address, sending it through to Dean just before his head started pounding once more. He dropped the phone, curling in on himself and gasping in pain. This time, he actually _saw_ things, _heard_ them.

_White sand beaches, surrounded by vibrant blue water._

_Waffles loaded with all different toppings, most of them way too sugary for his tastes._

_Warm, comfortable beds, amber eyes staring at him in the morning light._

_A little girl, wise for her years, curled up next to him as they had a Disney movie marathon._

_A baby, one named after him, staring into his eyes as if he was the world itself._

They kept coming, wave after wave, the pain never ceasing. With almost no warning, he blacked out once more – this time for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys survived last weeks episode (i know i didnt. eek!)
> 
> Lucky for all of us, i have the next few chapters mostly complete, so it shouldn't take a whole week to get the next one posted!
> 
> stay brave, hunters!  
> \- Chaos


	10. The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You never answered my question. About my name OR what he’s like.” she murmured, leaning against him, struggling to keep her eyes open.
> 
> “It’s almost impossible to accurately describe Sam Winchester, kiddo. You’ll just have to see for yourself.” she looked up at him hopefully, and he laughed. “Not tonight, though. As for your name, its Samantha Juliet Winchester.”
> 
> “I get the first and last name, but where did the name ‘Juliet’ come from?” she muttered, scrunching her nose as she looked up at him. He rolled his neck, groaning in a way that spelled annoyance at the coming information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO IS READY FOR TONIGHT'S EPISODE?! *raises hand frantically and squeals*
> 
> Anyway - yayyyy fluff! some of the pieces from this chapter are actually what made me decide to make this a multi chapter story. I felt having more backstory and context would make it better - and luckily, I think it worked!
> 
> I had fun writing this chapter and coming up with ideas for it - I hope y'all enjoy it, too!

It hadn’t taken her long to get cleaned up, since most of the ick that she had picked up was still fresh. She took all the things she needed out of the closet beforehand, marveling at the clean set of pajamas it produced in exactly her size.

“I need to get me one of these.” she mumbled in amazement, eyeing the garments. It wasn’t often she found clothes in her size that she liked, since she was nearly half a foot taller than most of the girls in her class. At 5 foot 6, she was in league with the jocks of her grade, and she had taken advantage of this, too; excelling in sports and intimidating the bossy students never failed to make her grateful for her height. Still, she sometimes wished she was average.

_Who am I kidding,_ she thought, washing the conditioner out of her hair, _the word ‘average’ isn’t in my vocabulary._

She finished up, wrapping herself in the red-and-black flannel pajamas. She walked back out into the living room, looking at her surroundings once more.

The beach house had a large floorplan, yet still managed to feel somewhat cozy. Walking up and out of the hallway, the whole opposite wall was filled with large windows, all covered halfway with tan shades. The ceiling was fairly low, and the living area was an elongated rectangle shape, located across from the brightly lit kitchen. Its dim lighting created a calming atmosphere. The tv, located on what appeared to be a bamboo entertainment center, was almost comically large, obscuring the view of whatever lay behind it.

“Nice, isn’t it?” she jumped, turning around. Although she could make out the faint marks where the stitches once were, Gabriel looked much better. He seemed to feel so too, if his telltale smile was anything to go by. He walked forward, looking at the tv. “I wasn’t going to make it that large originally, but Chaos *insisted* that it was the only way to watch Disney movies. She ended up being right, in a sense.”

“Chaos…” Juliet muttered, the name striking a chord within her memories. Gabriel nodded, taking a seat on the steel blue couch across from the giant screen. Juliet fiddled with her hair, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He may have been her father, but he was also an _archangel_ – and a very powerful one, based on how intricate this place was. He studied her for a moment before patting the couch between his legs, beckoning her to sit in front of him, a hairbrush appearing out of thin air.

“C’mon. I don’t bite - well, I won’t bite you.” he grinned, snorting in amusement as she rolled her eyes in exasperation, settling herself on the floor.

“Are you always this childish?” she muttered petulantly, focusing on the feel of his fingers running through her hair before the brush followed.

“Pretty much.” he replied, brushing through the first section he had created.

Her hair had always been easy to manage, and this time was no exception – the brush glided through the dark, damp locks almost effortlessly. When he stopped his brushing for a moment, Jule leaned back, nudging his knees in protest. He laughed- a freeing, genuine sound that made Jule’s lips turn upwards of their own accord - and continued.

“And here we have the moose calf, who shares the long, glorious mane and terrible clothing style of her mortal father, Sam Winchester.” he said, faking a sports announcer’s voice. Jule snorted in amusement, turning her head slightly and shoving his knee once more, earning a chuckle. Their laughter died down, and Jule found her next question leaving her lips unchecked;

“What is he like?”

The stretch of silence from behind her prompted her to continue. “I’ve heard his name whispered by hunters who stay the night, as if they are afraid of him, but…they say he stopped the devil himself.”

Another beat of silence followed before he replied. “He did, Jule. And they should be afraid of him. He and his brother…well, I’ve never seen anything like it, never _met_ anyone quite like those Winchester boys, and I’ve been around a _long_ time. They would do anything for each other, sacrifice themselves in an instant for what they believe to be right, no matter what the costs to themselves. Granted, they ended up popping my big bro out of his box, but they fixed it, by the looks of it.” his hands paused for a moment as he thought.

“He’s a lot like you, actually. Or, you’re a lot like him, I guess. I called it from the beginning – if there’s one thing I learned from watching them all those years, it’s that they are nothing if not stubborn and determined. My awesome archangel juice is no match for the Winchester genes he passed on to you.”

“I am not stubborn.” she pouted, leaning further back against the couch and resting her head on his knee. He huffed a laugh, gently scratching her scalp.

“Oh, sure you’re not. No point lying to me, kiddo – I can see it in your eyes, just as I saw it in Sam all those years ago.” he shifted slightly, getting a disgruntled noise from Jule as she was forced to shift as well. He went silent for a moment, the quiet almost deafening to Jule as she remembered the stitches. Luckily, he started up again pretty quickly.

“I tried to help him once – teach him a lesson. Admittedly, I didn’t go about it in the best way possible. Not like it would’ve mattered - in the end, he was hell-bent on tracking me down and demanding that I bring Dean-o back from the pit.”

“You-you threw my uncle into hell!?” she exclaimed, whipping around to look at him in shock. He laughed, grabbing her hands as she tried to punch him indignantly. She then squeaked as she was pulled up into the archangel’s lap. Pouting, she crossed her arms as he gave her a mirthful look, lips quirking into a smirk.

“I didn’t _throw_ him into hell; I just killed him 103 times. He sold his soul to save Sam, so he ended up in hell – or so he thought. I just ended up holding onto him before throwing him back into his body.”

“That’s not any better!” she exclaimed, trying to squirm away from him. Gabriel rolled his eyes, grabbing a blanket from the other side of the couch and wrapping her in it before moving her so she sat next to him, looking at him in uncertainty.

“I didn’t do it for kicks and gigs, Juliet – actually, it was the first time in a long time I did something like that without my own amusement in mind.” he said, pulling his feet up to curl them underneath himself. “I was trying to make him see how dangerous it was to not be able to let go. They are each other’s weaknesses, and the bad guys know it, too. It’s obvious.” he paused for a moment, smile fading for just an instant before it was replaced with a mischievous smile once more. “Well, I DID enjoy it, but my _point_ is that it wasn’t the ONLY reason I did it.”

“You never answered my question. About my name OR what he’s like.” she murmured, leaning against him, struggling to keep her eyes open. He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her temple.

“It’s almost impossible to accurately describe Sam Winchester, kiddo. You’ll just have to see for yourself.” she looked up at him hopefully, and he laughed. “Not tonight, though. As for your name, its Samantha Juliet Winchester.”

“I get the first and last name, but where did the name ‘Juliet’ come from?” she muttered, scrunching her nose as she looked up at him. He rolled his neck, groaning in a way that spelled annoyance at the coming information.

“Well, your father is a complete nerd; he loves his literature almost as much as he loves his research. So, I thought it fitting to give you a middle name that reflected that.”

“But why Juliet? She falls in love with a guy in like ten minutes and then ends up killing herself at the end of the play!” she whined, burying her face in his shoulder and yawning. She couldn’t help but notice that he now smelled like cinnamon and the outdoors, and she felt herself drifting off at the warmth and calming scent of him. Noticing her reaction, he laughed, picking her up. She yelped, although the squirming that followed was halfhearted.

“Yes, well, I guess I just liked the sound of it. Plus, would it matter? Even if you did somehow die, you’re part _Winchester._ You would just end up coming back in the most dramatic way possible, courtesy of me.” he laughed, setting her down at the entrance to a bedroom.

“I could go on all night about this, but I’m still drained, and you look like you haven’t slept in days. C’mon.” he ushered her into the room. She yawned, rolling her shoulders before freezing.

“What is it?” he questioned, turning to look at her. She turned her head to look behind her, dropping the blanket. She gasped in alarm at the sight before her.

Wings - 3 sets of them, to be exact. They were large, each wing nearly as long as she was tall, although not all that wide, only overlapping slightly. They were clearly in good condition, very few feathers missing, each remaining one glossy and smooth. She pressed her fingertips to them, watching as they opened further. They were a chocolate brown, with wide, jagged streaks of gold through them, the same color pattern as her eyes. When they moved, there was a slight iridescent sheen of pink and green on the darker feathers. She gaped in amazement, turning to Gabriel, who just gave her a look of both fondness and pride.

“Atta girl.” he chuckled. She could feel his amused gaze on her as she ran her fingers through the feathers, still awestruck. “I’ll teach you all about how to use them and care for them, don’t you worry.”

“Are…do they look like yours?” she questioned. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, looking behind himself. The gesture made a coil of worry form in her stomach. Were they that bad? What had hell done to them? With a sigh, he looked back at Jule.

“Close your eyes.” she did so, although she had a feeling her wings clearly showcased how much she didn’t want to. She heard him shuffling, then quickly felt a breeze brush past her, blowing her hair back.

“You can open them now.”

She couldn’t help as her expression turned to one of shock and worry. Gabriel didn’t look all that surprised by the reaction – he himself seemed to realize just how extensive the damage was. He frowned, studying the several hopelessly frayed and torn tertial feathers, the gaps where he was missing several secondaries, and the split barbs on his primaries. Looking at them now, she was uncertain how he had been able to fly both of them here to begin with. Granted, he had three pairs instead of 1 like most angels, but the amount of damage was staggering. Even being new to having the appendages, she could tell they needed work, and soon.

She stepped forward quickly, gently brushing the closest primary with her fingertips, fingers trailing from top to bottom. Gabriel shivered, causing her to pull back sharply.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean- “

“It’s fine, kiddo. You didn’t hurt me - they’re just sensitive in certain places.” he assured her, extending the right wing from his middle set. He used it to gently lead her towards the large bed. She stared at it before glancing over her shoulder, expression uncertain.

“How…how do I sleep with these?” she said, sounding both completely puzzled and slightly embarrassed. He just smiled, pulling himself towards the center of the circular mattress. She watched him expectantly, and shrieked in surprise as he yanked her onto the bed next to him with his middle set. She gave him her best bitch face, and his smile faded slightly.

“What is it?” she asked. She was now curled on her side facing him, head resting on her hands. Her wings were splayed rather awkwardly across the rest of the bed behind her, nearly trailing onto the floor.

“Nothing. Just…you remind me of him, sometimes.” he said. He quickly smirked once more, mimicking her position, save for his wings, which he wrapped forward. “Curl your wings inwards, like this.”

She studied him for a moment, but did so. She lifted herself slightly so her left wing came forward, underneath herself. As if by instinct, she then curled them against the archangel, who reciprocated by placing his over hers, wrapping her in a cocoon of warm, ruffled feathers. He grinned at her wide-eyed response.

“See? Fledgling instinct.”

“’M not a fledgling.” she muttered grumpily, eyes drifting shut as she curled against him.

“Suuuure you’re not, Jule.” he chuckled, pulling her close enough for her to bask in his calming scent once more. “Now rest. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

Just as she was about to drift off, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring softly.

“He’s going to love you just as much as I do, I’m sure of it.”

She smiled, the words playing in her mind as she drifted into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated! I would love to hear what you guys think!
> 
> may you all survive tonight's episode!!!  
> -Chaos


	11. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jule panted, dropping the piece of wood and propping herself up on both arms unsteadily.
> 
> “Well, aren’t you just a little half angel of death?” she gasped in pain as she struggled to kick backwards along the ground with her injured leg, squirming away from the white clad man now standing in front of her. He grinned at her cruelly, eyes flashing yellow as her back hit a box.
> 
> She was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo this chapter was SUPPOSED to be half inside Sam's head, half destiel POV in the real world. BUT, between me constantly switching tenses and having troubles with details this week, i'm just gonna post that chapter after this one.
> 
> but don't worry, y'all! i'm working on a few more fics, so hopefully that will get me out of my detail slump :)  
> anyway, have some more parent-child fluff! i just love the idea so much <3

_She was shaking uncontrollably, her body waiting to give out as she continued to use both her gradually waning adrenaline reserves and her unpredictable powers. Wave after wave of demons came at her, never letting her rest for too long. While she somehow knew she wasn’t the only one fighting them, she certainly felt like she was._

_With a shout of effort, she blasted a small group of demons backwards about 5 feet. She kept going, convincing herself to push just a little bit harder, to hold on just a little longer. She had ignored the cut on her leg for the majority of the time, but squeaked in pain as a metal pipe hit that same leg, hard enough to knock her to the ground. She grabbed the nearest object, a wooden board, shoving the last remaining demon back long enough to exorcise it. With a scream, it left its vessel, which crumpled to the ground lifelessly. Jule panted, dropping the piece of wood and propping herself up on both arms unsteadily._

_“Well, aren’t you just a little half angel of death?” she gasped in pain as she struggled to kick backwards along the ground with her injured leg, squirming away from the white clad man now standing in front of her. He grinned at her cruelly, eyes flashing yellow as her back hit a box._

_She was trapped._

_She stuck her hand out in warning, palm facing towards him. He just laughed, tossing his head back as he strolled forward._

_“Now you and I both know you don’t got the juice to take me on right now, darlin’.” he drawled, leaning down and grabbing her by the throat. She clawed at his hand, breathing erratic as he tightened his hold._

_“D’you have ANY idea how much of a mess you’ve caused, sweetheart?” he purred dangerously. She knew she didn’t have long before she passed out from oxygen deprivation – she had to do something, and fast. If she could just muster a little bit of energy…._

_Before she could do anything though, there was a sharp, tearing pain in her chest as he shoved the archangel blade through her. She heaved in one last deep breath._

_Then everything went black._

Jule gasped as she was yanked out of unconsciousness by the nightmare. As she got her bearings, she could feel someone massaging her scalp soothingly.

“Rise and shine, little one.”

“’M not little, either.” she mumbled, quickly remembering the fledgling comment from last night. She got a chuckle in response.

“Not little, no, but you’re MY little one.” he rumbled, wings shifting slightly. She opened her eyes, savoring the warmth of the feathers surrounding her; she was more comfortable than she cared to admit.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, tone casual. She could tell that he wouldn’t push if she refused to give any details, but she felt she should at least give him something, a reassurance of sorts – even if she did have to lie a bit.

“Just a nightmare. Nothing special.” she said, squinting as the feathers shifted briefly, allowing sunlight from the now visible windows to beam onto her face. She heard him exhale in quiet defeat, feathers returning to their original position. She let out a noise of appreciation, but kept her eyes closed.

Truth was, this particular dream had been bothering her for weeks, including the morning before she was kidnapped. The problem, however, was that the details hadn’t become clear to her _until_ now, after realizing who she was, what she was capable of. Asmodeus had originally been a shadow figure, her powers had been her rapier, and the swarm of demons had been a nest of djinns the first few times. She debated telling him about it, but decided it could wait until later; she didn’t want to ruin the calm atmosphere.

Gabriel being Gabriel, of course, had other plans.

“Was it about your lunch money being stolen?” he said, only managing to stay straight faced for half a second before he busted up laughing. She punched him in the arm, eyes now open and glaring, albeit weakly.

“No. Although if that did happen, dream me would probably kick their butts before they went around tormenting others for their money.”

“Ah. You really are a mini moose, aren’t you? Saving people, hunting things- “

“-the family business.” Gabriel looked at her in surprise as she quickly defended herself. “What? I got curious, decided the closest I could get was those crappy graphic novels.”

“Oh ho, no.” he chuckled theatrically, sitting up. She whined as the sun hit her face once more, quickly rolling over and wrapping her wings around herself. “Those books don’t even _begin_ to explain what he’s like. Although I have to admit, they _did_ do a pretty good job on nailing _my_ character.” he whistled in appreciation. She quickly sat up, staring at him intently.

“What do you mean? I went through every one of those books, and there wasn’t a single mention of you.” he just smirked at her.

“C’mon, Juliet! You’re a smart girl! Remember the story I told you last night?”

“About killing _my uncle_ over a hundred times? Yea,” she snorted. She stopped abruptly, looking down as her eyes scanned seemingly nothing as she gathered her thoughts. She whipped her head up so fast she felt her neck crack, and could see that Gabriel was full on grinning now, knowing she had figured it out.

“You – you’re The Trickster!?” she all but yelled. He laughed as she tried to beat him with a pillow, easily dodging her blows and pinning her down by her shoulders. Her wings flared out on either side of her as she stared at him in surprise for a split second before shrieking as he attacked her sides, grinning maniacally.

“S-stop!” she laughed, burying her face in a pillow and trying to crawl away. When he refused, she whipped around, throwing the pillow she was holding at him and quickly using her flailing wings as a shield, blocking her midsection with her legs and feet. She realized her mistake too late, and screamed as he attacked her bare feet.

“P-please…stop!” she stuttered between peals of laughter, her muscles seizing too hard for her to try and escape. He laughed, letting go of her feet and patting her leg affectionately.

“Never bring a pillow to a tickle fight, Samantha. It never ends well.” she stuck her tongue out and whacked him with a pillow at the use of her real yet unfamiliar name. He got up, wings reaching across the room as he stretched. She did the same, admiring the iridescent gleam of her marbled feathers as they tucked back against her body. She looked at him expectantly.

“Alright, kiddo. Say we get you some breakfast. How about chocolate chip pancakes?” he grinned, and she fought her oncoming smile at his obvious jab at his past as a fast metabolizing trickster.

“Only if you’ve got some fruit to go with it.” She replied, crossing her arms and grinning in triumph at the teasingly disgusted sound he made.

“You Winchesters, I swear.” he muttered, turning to walk out of the room. “Alright, but there’s going to be chocolate sauce, too, whether you like it or not.”

She cheered, laughing as she followed the archangel out of the room in search of the kitchen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my instagram is Chaossiren103, and i always post my new fics and chapters up there, so feel free to follow me!
> 
> peace out! And as always, i hope y'all survive tomorrow's episode!  
> -Chaos


	12. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe the comatose state is his body’s way of keeping him from further pain and harm?” Cas suggested levelly, looking at Dean. He just shrugged in response, handing the phone to Cas.
> 
> “What does the arrival time say?”
> 
> “18 hours and 32 minutes.” Cas confirmed, tensing slightly as Baby’s engine revved. He looked over to see Dean’s posture has changed slightly, arms up and tightly gripping the steering wheel, eyes concentrated on the road with such intensity that Castiel was surprised that the windshield didn’t melt under his gaze.
> 
> “Bet we can make it there in 13.” he challenged, turning up the radio. Cas just rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics, settling in for the long drive towards Fairfax, Virginia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD, you guys. The amount of ISSUES this chapter gave me is absolutely INSANE. In the words of a good friend, "Every author has that ONE chapter that they hate."  
> Welp. She wasn't wrong.  
> ANYWAY, I finally finished this chapter from the ninth circle of hell. Ill be honest though; its a bit random, bit confusing, bit choppy, at least to me. SOOOO, just a heads up. The title doesnt really fit the original idea anymore either, but wtf, why not keep it?
> 
> also I haven't even STARTED writing the next few chapters, so lets just hope my muse decides to stay with me for now (eek!!)  
> Anyway, enjoy this monstrous creation!

They pulled into the gas station like a bat out of hell, nearly hitting the green explorer that Sam had taken from the garage. Dean barely managed to shift the car into park before hurriedly rushing over to the driver’s side door, knocking on the glass and calling for Sam. Cas closed his door, quickly walking to join Dean. The hunter was now swearing frantically and yanking open the door. Cas joined him in stopping Sam’s slumped form from falling out of the vehicle. They wordlessly got him into the back of the impala, the hunter muttering worriedly and cursing a few more times.

When they got back into their seats and shut the doors, it took almost two minutes for Cas to get up the courage to speak, given the tense silence that had fallen over the car.

“Dean?” he asked gingerly, staring at the hunter. Dean picked his head up off the steering wheel to meet Cas’s eyes. His expression was unreadable, although Cas could see from his peripheral vision that he was gripping the steering wheel tightly enough that his knuckles were white. After a long moment of them looking at each other wordlessly, Dean slowly raised a hand, jerking his thumb back to motion at Sam.

“Can you heal him?” he said, voice unnaturally calm, given the situation. Cas considered this for a moment, turning around in his seat to press two fingers against Sam’s forehead. He closed his eyes, trying to break through whatever had caused Sam to fall into this state, but he couldn’t pinpoint what _exactly_ was wrong. He opened his eyes with a deep sigh, looking sympathetically at Dean and shaking his head.

“Son of a bitch!” Cas flinched at the outburst, watching wordlessly as Dean slammed a fist against Baby’s steering wheel. If he was upset enough to be rough with his beloved car, then Cas needed to find a solution, and quick.

“We still have address he gave us.” Cas pointed out. Dean turned to him, a dark look on his face.

“No,” he gestured to the backseat once more, “we are getting him back to the bunker, and we are finding a way to fix him, you hear?” pure anger shone in his voice, and Cas scrubbed his hands over his face in an unexpectedly human manner before responding.

“Dean, he must have given it to us for a reason. Maybe he knew someone who could help with this. After all, it started this morning, and then he left. Maybe he was searching for this person.” Cas reasoned, firmly squeezing Dean’s shoulder. After getting no immediate reaction, he quietly added, “You promised, remember?”

This did the trick, the muscles under his hand loosening somewhat, despite the disgruntled uncertainty that was still evident on Dean’s face. The hunter looked out the windshield for another minute before sighing, dipping his head in defeat.

“Fine. We’ll go. But he better make it there alive.” Dean put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking lot, the smooth motion completely contrasting the way he had driven in. Cas nodded and hummed in reassurance, looking back at Sam’s still form.

“He is not in critical condition; I just can’t figure out what happened mentally that is blocking me from bringing him back to consciousness.”

“Doesn’t mean his condition won’t change for the worse.” Dean grumbled, focusing solely on the dark stretch of road in front of him with a determined glare.

“Maybe the comatose state is his body’s way of keeping him from further pain and harm?” Cas suggested levelly, looking at Dean. He just shrugged in response, handing the phone to Cas.

“What does the arrival time say?”

“18 hours and 32 minutes.” Cas confirmed, tensing slightly as Baby’s engine revved. He looked over to see Dean’s posture has changed slightly, arms up and tightly gripping the steering wheel, eyes concentrated on the road with such intensity that Castiel was surprised that the windshield didn’t melt under his gaze.

“Bet we can make it there in 13.” he challenged, turning up the radio. Cas just rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics, settling in for the long drive towards Fairfax, Virginia.

 

_The heat of the moment, shone in your eyes…_

Sam jolted awake, looking around frantically as the familiar tune blasted throughout the room he was in. However, he wasn’t back in the horribly wallpapered motel room like he expected; he was in a large living room, laying on a muted blue couch, legs propped over the arm at one end.

He heard a chuckle from the other side of the room, and he focused his wide eyes on the archangel leaning against the wall next to a radio. He gave Gabriel his best bitch face, shifting his legs from the couch to the floor.

“Damn, Sammich, it’s just a song.” he smirked, sauntering towards the hunter. Sam rolled his eyes, preparing to get up and leave, but froze when he felt Gabriel grab his arm. He tugged Sam back onto the couch insistently, although his touch was gentle. Sam turned a halfhearted glare towards Gabriel, watching as he crouched down, grabbing the hunter’s hands and squeezing gently.

“Why?” he asked, voice devoid of emotion. Gabriel ignored the question in favor of asking one:

“Have you ever actually _listened_ to the lyrics before?”

Sam shrugged tiredly. “I try to avoid it altogether, so no.”

Gabriel stared at him for a minute, as if considering something. He finally lifted a hand, snapping to turn the radio back on. Sam cringed as the first few notes sounded out, staring at the radio warily. He relaxed somewhat as Gabriel began rubbing small, comforting circles along the back of his large hands before singing along to the first few lines in a soft, silvery voice:

 _I never meant to be so bad to you, one thing I said I would never do…”_ Sam closed his eyes, focusing on Gabriel’s voice, marveling at how shockingly soothing it was despite the words that were being sung.

“ _a look from you and I would fall from grace, and that would wipe this smile right from my face…”_ he glanced down as he heard another snap, causing the radio to turn off once more. Sam nodded slowly at Gabriel in uncertainty, unsure of what to say.

“I know I said killing Dean was fun, but…that wasn’t why I did it. I needed to try and make you _understand,_ to see how dangerous it was to hold on like that. I guess it didn’t really change anything in the long run though, did it?” Gabriel smiled softly, eyes so full of warmth that Sam felt like he was melting under the archangel’s gaze.

“It really didn’t.” Sam mumbled, lips twitching upward ever so slightly. Gabriel grinned hopefully, kissing Sam’s palms before leaning forward and humming in approval as their lips met.

 

His vision suddenly swirled into darkness, becoming clear once more as he heard the patter of feet coming towards him. He was now standing in a kitchen, a sense of confusion hitting him as he realized he could see the couch he had just been laying on in the next room. Early morning sunlight bled through the long, rectangular windows to his left, illuminating a small figure scurrying towards him.

“Chaos?” the name popped into his head, spilling out of his mouth unchecked.

“Shh!” she hissed, opening the lower cupboards surrounding him. When she finally found a semi-empty one, she crawled inside, curling her scale-covered, blood red wings around herself and glaring at him.

“Don’t tell him.”

“Wha- “

“Not a word!” she whispered fiercely, slamming the cabinet door.

Not 20 seconds later, Gabriel strolled around the corner, whistling nonchalantly. He smiled when he saw Sam, stepping in front of him and leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Oh Sammy…” he sing-songed, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist, “you wouldn’t have happened to see a little rebel gremlin run through here, would you?” he hopped up onto the counter next to Sam, mischievously glinting eyes boring into the hunter.

He shook himself out of his reverie. “Uh, no. No, I haven’t.” Gabriel stared at him for a moment before smirking, pulling Sam to stand between his legs.

“Then I guess we don’t have to worry about subtlety, hmm?” he fisted a hand in Sam’s shirt, pulling him forward into a heated kiss and groaning theatrically. Sam shivered, making a small sound of surprise as hands slid up under his shirt, tracing his abs and brushing over his nipples.

“Oh my GODS, _please_ stop.” Gabriel pulled away with a wet smack, jumping back down and leaving a stunned and slightly aroused Sam to watch as he crouched down in front of the cabinet, smirking devilishly.

“Can I come out now, or am I gonna be scarred for life?” Chaos huffed, voice muffled by the wood. There was a brief silence. Then, he heard a screech as Gabriel swung the door open and yanked her squirming form out, shimmering golden wings flaring into sight, preventing her from escaping.

“Let go!” she squealed, wings snapping outwards as he buried his fingers in her ribcage, earning another screech for his efforts. Sam flinched at the intensity of the sounds, but couldn’t help but stay and watch in amusement as the two struggled, Gabriel obviously having the upper hand.

He stopped for a moment, face mostly neutral save for the barely noticeable upturning of his lips.

“What did I say about this being a Disney household, Chaos?”

“Suck it.” she panted. The peals of laughter continued a second later as he continued his torture, obviously not all that impressed with the response.

Sam considered stepping in to help her, but before he got a chance to decide, his vision became distorted once more, making him dizzy as his brain tried to process the change.

 

 “Did I ever mention that I LOVE how proportional you are, Sammy?”

Sam clutched the pillow above his head lazily, eyes remaining closed. He heard a low wolf whistle, followed by two hands gripping his hips and a tongue trailing over his navel.

He emitted the occasional sound of encouragement, feeling the archangel’s mouth wander; nipping at his hipbone, trailing his lips upwards across Sam’s abs, lightly digging his fingers into the hunter’s sides and making him shiver.

“You’ve got quite the body, Winchester,” he praised openly, licking a stripe up Sam’s sternum before mouthing at his anti-possession tattoo. He then brushed his lips over to press a kiss right above Sam’s heart, the action wildly differing from his lewd behavior moments before. “but it’s not even _close_ to beating your soul.”

Sam snorted, tilting his head down slightly to look at Gabriel. “Right, because my soul is _so_ pure.” he grunted as his nipple was attacked by teeth, the archangel then raising his head and moving up to intertwine his hands with Sam’s. He gulped, avoiding Gabriel’s intense gaze.

“Look at me, Sam.” his tone was stern, yet gentle. The hunter obeyed hesitantly, multicolored eyes meeting amber ones. He studied Gabriel, his gaze holding more wisdom and knowledge than Sam could ever imagine, and he had never felt so small and unworthy as he did in that moment.

Gabriel must have been reading his mind though, because his hands released Sam’s, sliding down to cup his face.

“I know how dickish my brothers and sisters can be, but they’re wrong.” Sam clenched his jaw, the burning in his eyes telling him he was close to tears. Gabriel continued, a look of determination on his features. “Your soul, it’s so BRIGHT, so GOOD. You are _good_ , Sam Winchester, and you deserve better.”

“No.” he could barely get the word out. He had to clear his throat before speaking again, afraid that his tears would come in the form of a wavering voice and cracked words. “ _You_ deserve better. You’re an _archangel_ , Gabriel. Why would you want to tie yourself to me, of all people-mmph! “he made a soft sound of surprise as Gabriel’s lips crashed into his own, desperate and passionate.

“Sam…” he felt warm hands brushing his tears away as they finally escaped. He kept his eyes closed and inhaled shakily, waiting.

“I have seen _entire_ civilizations rise and fall. I’ve been everywhere at _least_ once. I have walked among humans _countless_ times.”

A hand moved down, pressing insistently against his chest in the same spot he had kissed before.

“And I’m telling you now, none of them are as special, as strong, as _brave_ as you are. You are _worthy_ , Sam – of love, of happiness, worthy of _this_ , of us.”

Sam swallowed, not trusting himself to speak, although he did risk opening his eyes.

Gabriel was looking at him in a way that Sam had never seen before. It was sincere, desperate, wise and inhuman all at once, and Sam couldn’t make himself look away again if he wanted to. Amber eyes flashed gold for a few seconds, and Sam shivered as he felt his very soul react, reaching forward in yearning to be _closer,_ to be accepted by the blindingly pure grace Gabriel was made of.

“Gabriel…” he trailed off as the archangel nodded, spreading his hand somewhat and increasing the pressure. He looked at Sam with an unusually serious expression.

“I need permission, Sam. This isn’t taken lightly by angels.”

Sam nodded slowly, eyes fluttering shut once more as he answered:

“Yes.”

He exhaled sharply as a burning sensation started, shooting outward from Gabriel’s hand. He clutched the pillow tighter in his fists, nearly ripping the fabric as he tried to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of being branded from the inside.

Just when he thought he was going to pass out from the intensity of it, the feeling ebbed away, leaving only a dim hum underneath the hunter’s skin. He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to look at Gabriel through his hazy vision. His eyes were still glowing, and a dull buzzing went through Sam’s skull. He could almost swear he felt his own eyes mirroring Gabriel’s, warming as the archangel’s grace reached into the furthest corners of his mind. It retreated gradually, and Sam finally relaxed his tense muscles as Gabriel gingerly lifted his hand from the spot.

“I am _yours_ , Sam, and you are mine. Nothing anyone else says will change that.” he said, eyes flickering back to their normal color as Sam propped himself up. The mark looked similar to the one Castiel had given Dean; the only true difference was where the marks were placed.

“I…” he cut off, unable to fully express what that meant to him while so many emotions were whirling through his mind. He looked up, settling for, “thank you, Gabriel. For everything.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Gabriel grinned at him, switching back to his light, mischievous nature in the blink of an eye. Sam crinkled his nose at the term, but smiled minutely at the archangel’s unkempt appearance; the bruises along his neck and shoulders from before, the stray locks of hair falling into his face. It was surreal, in a sense, seeing one of the most powerful creatures ever created look so _human._

Gabriel huffed, shoving him back down and laying over him, head buried in the crook of the hunter’s neck. “Yea yea, I know - I’m currently a disaster. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last, either.”

“Good.” Sam hummed happily, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I like it. Being able to see you like this.”

“Shut up.” Gabriel grumbled, golden wings rushing forth to cover them both, acting like a giant celestial blanket. Sam just smirked, wrapping Gabriel in a tight embrace and gently playing with his hair. The sound he got in response was akin to a purr, and it was nothing short of absolutely satisfying for Sam. He closed his eyes, wishing to revel in the current tranquility while it lasted.

 

It didn’t last long. He blinked in confusion as his sight tunneled before changing to a view of the ocean. He could feel the sand beneath his bare feet, his jeans folded up to just under his knees. The sun was on the horizon, and the breeze carried a slight floral aroma from the plants on either side of him.

“You gonna stare at the ocean all day, Sasquatch?” he turned around, eyes meeting the archangel’s. Gabriel held out a moving bundle, swaddled in pink. “I’ve got something _way_ more beautiful than those boring waves.”

Sam smiled softly, stepping forward and reaching out to take the bundle. His smile only grew as he pressed it against his chest, hearing a happy gurgle.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” he cooed gently, tilting his head down to get a better view of his daughter. He raised his free arm and offered her a single finger. The infant latched on instantly, eyes bright as she laughed.

“Well, _apparently_ you’re more entertaining to her than _I_ am.” Gabriel snorted, crossing his arms as he watched the pair fondly. Sam looked up, still smiling.

“Doesn’t matter – you’re her dad, too.” he insisted, giving her back to Gabriel. She cried out at the loss, large multicolored eyes staring up at Sam longingly. Gabriel shushed her, face amusingly concentrated as he tried the same, finger hesitantly tapping her small fist. Her eyes shifted from Sam to Gabriel unblinkingly. The two stared at each other intently, and Sam had to hold back the huff of laughter at the sight.

Finally, she opened her hand, fingers delicately curling around Gabriel’s. He looked up at Sam triumphantly, and any hope of holding back his laughter was gone. He snorted loudly, laughter booming forth and earning a strange look from the little girl in Gabriel’s arms.

Once his laughing conniption died down, he leaned forward, giving Gabriel a soft kiss. “See? She loves you, too.” Sam assured him, reveling in the genuine smile he got in response.

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something else, but Sam was whisked away once more, vision spiraling into yet another scene, and another, and still another.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I would just like to say TYSM @Silver_Wish! I could never have made my way through this hell without you, my dear! you are a fucking blessing!
> 
> As for the rest of you, I hope y'all survive tomorrow night's episode, cause I have a feeling I won't!
> 
> prepare yourselves, flockmates! and stay safe!!!  
> -Chaos


	13. The Pancake Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she looked up, staring in horror at the pack of mini chocolate chips that was nearly the size of a newborn baby. He grinned madly before breaking to laugh at her reaction.
> 
> “Oh, relax! Wouldn’t want to have you crash on me from eating all this. Say we use half the bag?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my GOD, you guys. Life happened, and now i'm ogling at the fact that I haven't updated this in over two weeks. But, I hope the sheer word count of this chapter will be enough to sate you all.
> 
> So, yeah. This chapter has a funny title, because for the most part its funny and fluffy af. Although if i'm being honest, it has a little bit of everything. of course, that's just me. How about you decide?

Jule replayed the nightmare in her head as she got dressed in the magic bathroom again, studying her new outfit in the mirror. It was a simple flannel, emerald green in color with a hood attached. She had the rapier on her head as a circlet once more, paired with her usual combo of dark blue bootcut jeans and red converse. She placed her hands on the counter, leaning forward to study her own reflection in the mirror.

Like her internal debate back at the school, she KNEW which decision would be best; telling Gabriel about it, new details included. However, _just like_ at the school, she felt that newfound sense of power clouding her logical judgement, the worry once more pushed to the back of her mind.

_I can handle this,_ she thought, studying her multicolored eyes in the mirror before leaning back, _I don’t need to worry him about it._

“C’mon, kiddo! We’ve got pancakes to make!” She jumped as she heard him knock at the door.

“You don’t even NEED food.” she mumbled, opening the door. She studied him as he crossed his arms, raising a single brow. He was dressed in a dark green Henley shirt, an unusually large olive cargo jacket covering it. She wanted to ask about it, but was cut from that train of thought as he spoke, his tone holding a sense of finality.

“No, I don’t. But _you_ do, and I’m not gonna let my little fledgling starve. Capiche?”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname but responded anyway, “Capiche.”

He grinned. “Good! Now, come help me find the large bag of chocolate chips I _know_ I stashed somewhere.” he turned the corner, looking back and winking at her as he did. She let her gaze fall on the mirror one last time before shutting the light off, going in the direction he had.

She entered the brightly lit kitchen, admiring the long, granite countertops. _Way better than the tables they use in home Ec.,_ she thought happily.

“Like it?” she turned to him and nodded, still admiring the large space. He snorted, turning back to get the rest of the measuring cups out as he continued, “Yea, I’m sure most people would wonder why I bother with the full effort of cooking things when I could just snap something up.”

“I’M wondering why.” she mumbled, reaching up to grab some mixing bowls. He turned to grin at her, poking her side gently.

“Well, if you _must_ know, it’s because I still greatly admire how capable humans are, how much they have evolved even in the past few centuries.” he gestured around with his finger before tapping a few knuckles on the counter. “Trust me, this is WAY better than the stuff people used to try back then. Man, Benji would die a second time if he saw all this.”

“Benji?” she looked at him curiously, stopping in the middle of levelling out the flour. A small glint of amusement shown in his eyes, and Jule had a feeling he was expecting a strong reaction from his next words.

“Yea, Benji. Although, I think most people call him by his real name, Benjamin Franklin. So boring.” he complained, trying to tramp down a smile as she gaped unabashedly at him.

“You…you met BENJAMIN FRANKLIN?” she said, tone almost indignant. He smirked, reaching over her to pour the baking powder into the bowl.

“Didn’t just meet him – got along great with the guy. One of the few humans I’ve ever met that I didn’t want to insult or prank constantly.” he said. She blinked, finishing her task and pouring the flour in.

“I…I don’t even know how to respond to that.” she said eventually, voice monotone. Gabriel snickered, ruffling her hair.

“Well, I know Sam responded by bombarding me with questions, history, rumors, all that jazz. Such a nerd.” he poured the rest of the dry ingredients in, then quickly added the wet ingredients and shoved the bowl into Jule’s hands. She slowly stirred as she pondered the information. She was eventually snapped out of her reverie by a crinkling sound.

“By the way, I found them.” she looked up, staring in horror at the pack of mini chocolate chips that was nearly the size of a newborn baby. He grinned madly before breaking to laugh at her reaction.

“Oh, relax! Wouldn’t want to have you crash on me from eating all this. Say we use half the bag?”

“A quarter.” Jule immediately shot back, glaring at him. He hummed, pretending to think about it a minute before appearing behind her, pouring said half into the mix. She gasped, immediately reaching for a small handful of flour and flicking it in his general direction, as she usually did with Lola. She then froze as she realized what she had just done, slowly setting the bowl down and turning.

His expression mirrored hers in terms of shock, but it also held a tinge of amusement. It took Jule all of three seconds to start howling with laughter at the archangel’s flour-covered hair and face, bending over and wrapping her arms around her stomach. She heard him mumble “Oh, you asked for it, Samantha!” a split second before he tackled her to the ground, caging her in with his wings. She immediately shrieked and curled in on herself as she grabbed the bag of chocolate chips from him, flinging them all over the kitchen. He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around her to stop her from moving.

At least, that’s what she thought it was at first. Then, she screamed as he tickled her back – no, tickled her _wings_. They had reappeared at some point, fluttering and twisting, failing to break free of his hold.

“S-stop! I gi- “she cut off as he briefly attacked her neck, “I give up!”

“That’s what I thought.” he crowed, removing his arms but not his wings. She laughed, catching her breath as she looked at the mess over both the kitchen and them – flour, chocolate chips, some stray feathers floating through the air.

“Alright, you jerk. You got your chocolate chips. Now let me go.” she huffed, shifting to stand up. He let her before doing the same, pulling his wings back in. He looked at her triumphantly before taking the bowl and pouring its overly sugary contents onto the griddle, leaving her to look back at her mussed wings, which gradually faded out of vision. She turned back to see that he was now watching them as well.

“Why do they do that?” she asked. He leaned a hip against the counter, crossing his arms loosely as he answered.

“The automatic disappearing act? It’s a defense mechanism, of sorts. An instinctual reaction to danger.” he glanced to the pancakes before continuing, “It stops your wings from being damaged during battle.”

“But what about them randomly appearing to begin with?” she got a mock glare from him as she reached into the fridge, pulling out all the fruit she could find. She stuck her tongue out at him, kicking him lightly before starting to cut it all up, putting it in a nearby bowl.

“Well…” he paused, trying to think of a good way to explain it. “Most of the time, they only do so when playing or training – situations where it is safe or necessary to do so. I used to watch my younger siblings play with them out, thus you being a fledgling.” he teased. She ducked as he went to pat her cheek, scrunching her nose. “Anyway, it basically depends on what you find threatening. You consider tickling an attack, sure – but not one that actually puts you in danger. It’s a playful gesture to you, so instead of disappearing, they come out to protect you.”

“But if that’s the case, why didn’t they come out before? It’s not the first time I’ve been tickled.” she pointed out, sliding the last of the fruit pieces into the bowl before looking at him.

“Simple: you didn’t know you had them before. You can’t unconsciously summon something that you didn’t know existed to begin with.” he said, setting the giant stack of pancakes on two separate plates. He sighed, pursing his lips for a moment.

“I should teach you how to always keep them hidden, though. They don’t always automatically disappear, especially when in battle mode. Heat of the moment, and all that jazz.” he grunted as she elbowed him, glaring at the pun. He just smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and grabbing the silverware.

She followed him out to the dining area with her own plate and bowl, sitting down across from him and studying the natural wood table, embedded with a glass river in the middle. He slid the silverware across to her, and she instantly dug in, a small appreciative noise escaping her as she stuffed a piece of pancake in her mouth. Gabriel laughed, cutting into his own and doing the same.

“Not so bad, huh?” she threw a strawberry at him, only managing to graze his shoulder with it. She swallowed before speaking, chocolate coating her tongue.

“What is your issue with fruit?” she asked, stabbing a piece of pineapple. Gabriel snorted loudly, shaking his head and sitting back in his seat.

“I _don’t_ have an issue with it; it was just one of my favorite things to tease Sam about.” he explained. He popped another piece of pancake into his mouth before continuing, “Those two were complete opposites in a lot of ways, especially their diets.”

“’Those two’? Sam and Dean?” she clarified, listening intently. She didn’t know all that much about them other than some rumors she’d overheard from other hunters. The problem was, that’s exactly what they were – rumors.

“Yep. I’ve gotta say, I always liked Dean’s style; the junk food, the constant stream of sexy women- “

 “Aw, c’mon! I’m trying to eat here!” she shouted through a mouthful of pineapple. He took his fork, flipping a piece of pancake towards her. She stared at it silently as it landed on the table next to her with a soft _slap._ She looked up at him blankly, staring as she put a slice of pancake on her own fork, poising it. He just grinned, doing the same.

The next few minutes were spent ducking and dodging as they threw pieces of pancake and fruit at each other. Gabriel swore quietly as he ran out of pancake, ducking all the way under the table as Jule laughed at him.

“What were you saying about not wanting fruit?” she teased. She let out a squeak as she was dragged out of her chair by her ankle. They laughed, tossing a few more pieces at each other before getting up. She stuffed the last remaining pieces in her mouth, grinning at him with her cheeks full. He laughed softly, snapping the plates and mess away before pointing at her.

“Okay, _now_ you look almost exactly like Dean when I first met him. To be fair, that WAS some damn good caramel. German, I think.”

She gulped it down as she finished her milk, licking her lips. He just shook his head, brushing past her towards the back door.

“Where are you going?”

“Not me – we. I’m gonna teach you how to fly, Julie-Bean.” warmth blossomed in her chest at the nickname, but she shook her head, looking at him.

“You can’t fly with those wings.”

“I got us here, didn’t I?” she grumbled at his stubbornness, stalking forward and jumping onto his back. He made a small noise of surprise at the action, reaching to grab her behind the knees so she wouldn’t fall.

“I’m not letting you fly anywhere until I take a look at your wings.” she protested, grip tightening to stop him from shaking her off. He huffed but quickly relented, walking over to the living room once more. He went past the tv, and Jule slid off his back as she studied the giant array of pillows, blankets, and beanbags in the otherwise empty area. He nudged her softly, gracefully sitting down and crossing his legs, wings reappearing and stretching wall to wall.

“What’s with all this?” she gestured to the rainbow array of soft items, sitting down behind him.

 “Ah, Chaos and her strange habits. Could never tell if I thought of her more as a fledgling or a true hellhound pup.” he waved dismissively, turning slightly to meet her eyes. “Well? Are we doing this or not?” he snarked, feathers rippling into dozens of shades of gold before settling again. She lightly brushed her fingers down one of the more intact primaries.

“How do I...” she trailed off, staring at the mess of feathers.

“Reach towards the base of one. You should feel a small bump.” she did so, fingers stopping as she found it. “Good. Now, very GENTLY rub it – it shouldn’t take much for the wing oil to activate.” she scrunched her nose in distaste but did so. He was right – she had a warm, slick substance on her fingers within seconds, the texture almost reminding her of blood. She shook the thought off, focusing on his instructions instead.

“Alright, now take them one by one. Pinch them between your fingers, downward strokes. They don’t come off easy, so don’t be afraid to tug ‘em a little.”

“I REALLY hope you mean the feathers.” she said, shuddering. Gabriel gave a choked laugh as she hesitantly started on a random feather.

“Uh, yeah. _Please_ don’t tug the glands – they’re _very_ sensitive. ‘Specially for me, since I like using them for…other things.”

“Seriously, WHY?” she whined, smoothing down the next two before having to go back for more oil.

 “Cause it’s fun.” he snickered.

Her movements were methodical as she started from the innermost feathers, working her way out. She tried to avoid the few bare patches, and he assured her that she could tug out the burnt or loose ones. She watched curiously as they withered into small streaks of bright blue, winding their way back into his wings before disappearing. He explained to her that the physical form was just a manifestation, the feathers actually being a representation of his grace.

After a while, it became almost second nature to her; smooth a few down, brush her fingers back over to the base, and repeat. She let her mind wander, only coming back from her thoughts as he spoke.

“Where’d you hear that, Julie-Bean?” she looked up, pondering what he was referring to for a moment. He quickly reiterated, “That tune you were just humming - where’d you hear it?”

“Oh,” she paused in her movements for a moment as she thought. “I guess I learned it from Lola. I’ve known it for as long as I can remember, so…” she shrugged helplessly, not sure what else to say. She looked back up at him in shock as he began humming the same tune, quickly switching to singing it. She listened, the sense of both peace and heartbreak all-encompassing as his voice elegantly slid over the notes, each one holding an edge of longing to it.

The language was foreign to her ears, but the sense of familiarity it brought….it put her in a trance, of sorts. Her head tingled, fuzzy images of wings and bright blue skies, of small children laughing and playing consuming her. They swirled around her, encircling her in utter warmth and safety. She could only faintly recognize her shallow breathing, a hand still clutching the single feather in her palm as she shook with emotion.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like this, but she was snapped out of it by a distant voice calling for her, warm hands cupping her face.

She gasped, blinking rapidly to clear her vision and focus on the worried face in front of her. Gabriel studied her carefully, gently wiping a few of the tears away before he asked, “Are you okay, kiddo?”

“I…” she trailed off, still trying to stop the spinning in her head, the imprints of unknown memories reappearing behind her eyes. “I-I don’t know, I just…I feel like I’m not complete, like I’m _missing_ something, I just- “

“Don’t know what?” he finished quietly, brushing her hair back and rubbing a thumb along her jaw lightly. She nodded, breathing still shaky and uneven. He bowed his head slightly, hands hesitantly leaving her as he leaned out of her space, sitting on his haunches. “I feel that, too. That song, its…it’s something my brothers used to sing to me when I was little, whenever I got scared or angry.”

“I saw…images, memories, I think. But I don’t think they were mine.” she whispered, hugging her legs and looking down, focusing on the floor next to him.

“They probably weren’t. I sang it to you when you were little, you know.” he scooted closer, grabbing her hands as she lowered her legs to sit crisscross. “I didn’t want it to be tainted, for you to associate it with anything bad. So, I used my own memories, ones you didn’t have context for; what heaven was like, before all the fighting.”

He laughed bitterly, fingers twitching against Jule’s palms. “I guess I also hoped it would make me feel safe again, like I had a home. You, me, Sam, even Chaos – I wanted a flock. Guess I got my hopes up too high, huh?”

She had heard enough. She launched upwards, throwing her arms around him, fingers clenching tightly into the oversized jacket he wore. She suddenly understood _why_ it was so large.

“This was his, wasn’t it?” she asked quietly, voice muffled against his shoulder. His wings mirrored his arms as he wrapped them around her, grip just as tight as hers.

“Mhm.” he hummed simply.

They stayed like this for a while, both unwilling to pull away. Eventually though, Jule’s knees started hurting, and she realized she wasn’t done with the third set of wings yet.

“I should- “she leaned back, trying to move behind him. He stopped her with a gentle hand to the shoulder.

“Don’t need to. Sit.” he motioned in front of himself. She did so, giving him a look of uncertainty. He nodded, motioning behind her. “You think you can make them appear?”

She debated shooting back with the fact that hers didn’t need to be groomed like his did. However, she decided it wasn’t worth it, not right now.

So she closed her eyes with a sigh, focusing on the area. Within moments, she felt them materialize, the downy feathers tickling her back as they emerged, wrapping forwards and touching the tips of his. She opened her eyes, flushing slightly at the pride he openly displayed at the action.

“What now?” she broke the silence, tucking her feet underneath herself. He did the same, slinging the jacket off and setting it next to him as the bottommost set stretched out right outside of hers. He gently tugged her right wing, beckoning her to come closer.

“Now, I do this.”

She watched as he brought forth oil-slicked fingers, reaching to smooth the feathers he had disturbed before. She furrowed her brows, uncertainty clear in her gaze.

“What…is that safe? Using oil that isn’t yours?” she questioned. He let out a huff of laughter.

“Your wings are made from the same stuff as mine, kiddo. Even if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter.” he moved, smoothing what few feathers were out of place on the first set before reaching for more. She did the same, fingers hesitantly reaching back. She squeaked as she hit one, the sensation making her wings puff out momentarily. He laughed, earning a glare from her as she covered her own fingers.

“You’re ticklish everywhere, aren’t you?” he teased softly.

She rolled her eyes before unthinkingly replying with, “What’s the point of them being so sensitive?”

Big mistake on her part, as he grinned and said, “I don’t know, kiddo, but it makes everything bedroom-related about 10 times better.”

“Noooo!” she yelled, taking off one of her shoes and throwing it at him. He threw his head back and laughed, but the sound was…different than before. It echoed through her, reverberated against her very soul, and she couldn’t help but laugh as well. By the time he stopped, she was grinning brightly.

“What was _that?”_ she asked, still giggling. He smiled, tapping her chest with a finger.

“ _That_ was my true voice – well, as much of it as your human half could handle.” she stared in wonderment at him, once again realizing that this was an _archangel_ sitting before her, letting her touch his wings. She shook off the last of the unfamiliar sensation, getting to work on the final golden appendage.

“What is the point of this, anyway?” she eventually said, twitching occasionally as he tugged a stray feather loose.

 “Bonding. It’s used occasionally for pair bonding, but it’s mostly for flock bonding. A way to claim and scent mark to let others know which flock you belong to…and who _not_ to mess with.”

“Sooo kinda like cats? Rubbing their heads against others to claim them?” she mused.

“Exactly like that.” Gabriel exclaimed, finishing the last few feathers on her sets before working on the last ruffled golden wing alongside her, “ _or_ like your heightened sense of smell. It’s kind of instinctual, a way of telling you who you can trust, who you consider family.”

“Oh.” she said simply, remembering how specific the calming scent of him had been as she leaned against his shoulder the night before. He chuckled, feathers shimmering as he shook his wings before standing up and offering a hand. She took it, watching him carefully.

“Speaking of smelling things, here.” he leaned back down, scooping up the oversize jacket. He slung it over her shoulders, holding it up as she stuck her arms through it.

The fabric smelled faintly of gunpowder and something else she couldn’t pinpoint, something unique only to the hunter, she guessed. It was even more baggy on her, going halfway down her thighs and making it necessary to roll the sleeves up a couple times. It didn’t matter to her, though; it was _Sam’s_ , and that made it perfect.

Gabriel gave her an amused grin as she wrapped her arms around herself, wings fading through the fabric and hugging her sides contentedly. “It suits you, mini moose. Guess I should have known that your gorgeous wing color and good looks wouldn’t be the only Winchester traits you got.” he snorted, a wingtip brushing lightly over the fabric as he walked by. She turned to watch as he snapped up a new jacket for himself, one whose faded blue color resembled the couch across the room.

“After you, Julie-Bean.” he opened the back door and bowed before looking up, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“It’s time to see how well you can use those beautiful wings of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Was it everything you hoped for? Tell me please! I love getting comments from you guys!


	14. The Dead End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Like a game of mental Jenga?” Dean snorted humorlessly. “So, what happens if something goes wrong?”
> 
> She paused before answering, clearly trying to choose her next words carefully. “If the spell doesn’t hold out long enough, or if any other memories are disturbed…best case scenario, we both have permanent hallucinations, nightmares, and seizures. As for worst case scenario…we both either end up in a coma, or become completely brain dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, BITCHES!  
> geez, my life has been a complete mess as of late. This chapter being a pain in the butt to organize and write didn't help.
> 
> BUT, it is finally finished, and it didn't turn out as horribly as i feared it would.

                   The leaves crunched beneath Baby’s tires as they pulled down the street and parked, the sound strangely resonant in comparison to the stillness of the houses around them.

                   “Which one do you think it is?” Dean said, his fingers nimbly taking apart his gun as he studied the row of average-looking houses on either side of the street.

                   “I’d say the one with warding all over it.” Cas deadpanned. Dean turned to glare at him, snapping the now fully-loaded clip back into his gun before getting out of the car and leaning down to keep eye contact with the angel.

                   “Thanks, smartass. Wouldn’t have needed to ask if I could see the damn warding.” he shot back, slamming the door shut. “I say we check it out first – don’t want to drag Mr. Comatose here into a trap.” his jaw twitched minutely after he said this, and Cas knew the gesture well by now; he was worried for Sam, even though his tone was casually snarky as per usual.

                   “Agreed.” Cas replied, confidently strolling forwards to the opposite side of the street. Dean followed him, gun pointed down but ready.

                   Both stopped at the front door, and Cas brushed a hand over the smooth surface, brows furrowing. His eyes wandered, seemingly reading or looking over something.

“This warding…it’s for angels and demons, to keep them out.”

                   “You mean you can’t come in?” Dean said incredulously, shoulders hunching at the thought of leaving Cas behind. Cas nodded in confirmation.

                   “It’s protective warding – and based on the sheer amount, I would say whoever is here is scared, maybe waiting for something.”

                   “Or someone.” Dean muttered. He lifted a hand to knock, but quickly froze as the door opened just far enough to reveal a disheveled, skittish looking blonde.

                   She was tall, although it was clear she was athletic rather than delicate. She wore a turquoise tank top and a thin leather jacket, one that immediately told Dean that she was most likely a hunter. Her hair was ruffled, as if she had been repeatedly running her hands through it, and her pale hazel eyes stared through the two sharply, despite her obvious state of distress.

                   “Can I help you?” her voice was casual yet soft, as if wary of someone listening in. The two men looked at each other for a moment before Dean finally addressed her.

                   “Are you Lola?” he asked. He took her tightly guarded expression as a yes, but she quickly spoke before he could ask any other questions.

                   “Do you have the poptarts?” Dean’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and he could tell they were going to have issues if they didn’t respond with _something._

                   “Do you know Sam Winchester?” Cas asked, tone just as serious as hers.

                   Apparently it was the wrong thing to ask, because within a second she was reeling back inside, trying to slam the door in their faces. Dean was quicker, though, and all but kicked the door inwards, causing her to lose her balance. She acted quickly, pressing her back against the couch a few feet away and retrieving her own gun from her jacket pocket. Cas could only watch helplessly from beyond the door as they pointed their guns at each other, the tension nearly thick enough to cut with his blade as they maintained eye contact.

                   “Answer the question.” Dean commanded, voice dangerously calm.

                   “Not until I know who’s asking.” she shot back.

                   “I am Castiel, and this is Dean.” Cas supplied, hoping the information would be enough to ease the tension. He knew Dean would be glowering at him for giving away who they were if he weren’t so focused on Lola. Cas didn’t care in the least, not if it meant stopping the two from shooting each other.

                   “Winchester?” she verified tentatively. Cas was lucky, because despite her hesitant tone, she lowered her gun just slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

                   “Exactly. Now, can you fix my brother or not?” Dean snapped.

                   “Dean, lower your weapon. We did not come here to fight.” Cas ordered, moving his hand down into his own pocket. Lola watched him warily, following every move as he took Sam’s cell phone out. He leaned down and slid the phone across the floor, watching as she put a hand on it to stop it from hurtling under the couch. Dean glared at her for a second longer before lowering his gun. She did the same, slowly standing back up and skimming her eyes over the text the screen was showing. She looked up at them both, her still guarded expression obvious from beneath her lashes.

                   It was almost a full minute (not that Castiel was counting) before she finally spoke.

                   “Bring him in here, before I change my mind.”

                   In less than 4 minutes (again, not that the angel was counting each and every second that passed), she had deactivated the angel warding and they were hurriedly shuffling through the door with Sam’s limp form. They set him on the couch and stepped back, looking at her expectantly. After quickly activating the warding once more, she leaned down, face level with Sam’s as she put a hand to his forehead, closing her eyes. Cas glanced to Dean’s anxiously fidgeting form as he watched Lola, her eyelids twitching as if she were scanning the innermost depths of the hunter’s brain for what could possibly be wrong.

                   “No, that’s…that’s not possible.” she breathed in disbelief.

                   “What? What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked, voice taut with impatience. Cas put a calming hand on the hunter’s shoulder, a spark of warmth igniting as Dean’s fidgeting lessened.

                   “What did he tell you? Before – this.” she removed her hand from his head to gesture vaguely.

                   Dean huffed in frustration, running his hands down his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. To most, it would be seen as annoyance, perhaps even anger. However, Cas knew well enough that the hunter was simply beating himself up for not being able to do anything else to help Sam. He squeezed Dean’s shoulder lightly in reassurance, explaining to the blonde what he had seen in the library the morning before, and what Sam had said before using the sigil on him. She nodded, concerned expression softening as she pondered the information.

                   “And this happened yesterday morning?” she asked, turning to look at Dean. He nodded, running a hand through his hair.

                   She seemed to consider something before getting up and walking towards the hallway. She only turned her head to mumble a quick _watch him_ before stalking down the hall and opening the farthest door on the right. A moment later, she came back, hands feebly clutching what appeared to be a wooden box of some sort.

                   As she bent down to place it on the coffee table, Cas could see it was indeed a box; it was hexagonal in shape, and made of dark polished wood. Much like the outside of the house, it had sigils and protective spell work carved and laced throughout it. He couldn’t determine much else though, only watching as she set it down on the table, the inside all but crumbling into ash as her hands no longer kept it in one piece.

                   “What the hell is that supposed to be?” Dean asked, crouching down to study it. He picked up a piece, eyeing it before handing it to Cas.

                   “It’s a Japanese puzzle box – well, it WAS one, anyway.” she said, plopping down on the armchair next to the couch. “The memories contained inside somehow escaped and, well,” she extended her hand, palm open upward as she motioned to the box.

                   “Woah woah woah, wait. Did you just say _memories?_ ” Dean asked. She pursed her lips and nodded, looking over to Sam once more, uncertainty clear in her troubled gaze. Cas nodded to himself, placing the singed puzzle piece on the table before straightening.

                   “Sam’s memories. The box failed to contain them, and the coma is the effect of the memories being placed back inside his mind.” understanding colored his tone, and Lola shot a heated look at him in response to the subtle accusation.

                   “The box didn’t just FAIL; I’ve checked on it weekly for almost 8 years. Nothing was wrong with the warding. It must have been an outside influence of some sort, something that caused the memories to burn through the box.”

                   “Like what?” Cas asked.

                   “I…I don’t know.” She mumbled, eyeing the box uneasily. Dean was now glaring daggers at her, and she stood up quickly, hair becoming even more disheveled as she clenched her hands in it. “I would NEVER intentionally open the box and break the warding without rigorous preparation, and I would certainly NEVER do it without his consent!” She groaned in frustration, tension leaking from her as she plopped back down on the opposite side of the table in defeat, staring at Sam with a look so helpless that Cas feared the worst.

                   “Can. You. _Fix him_?” Dean’s voice was dangerously low, and Cas moved behind him in the event that he tried to use his gun on her once more. Lola glanced at him sorrowfully before looking back to Sam. She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes once more, brows furrowing in concentration. Her head lowered as she let go, leg bouncing with nerves. She rubbed a hand across her forehead before shaking her head no.

                   “What do you _want_?” Dean growled, crouching down to meet her eyes, “Money, a favor? You can’t tell me there’s not a single damn thing you can do- “

                   “I don’t want anything!” she said, leg movement abruptly stopping as she stood up to meet Dean’s irritated gaze. “You have to understand, it’s not a matter of cost – the only thing I can think of is doing a temporary mind meld spell, and even then the risks are immense.”

                   “How immense?” Cas pressed.

                   “I’d have to go inside his mind, find all the pieces one by one, and do it without running into any of his more… _traumatizing_ memories.”

                   “Like a game of mental Jenga?” Dean snorted humorlessly. She shrugged her shoulders in a helpless _I guess_ gesture. “So, what happens if something goes wrong?”

                   She paused before answering, clearly trying to choose her next words carefully. “If the spell doesn’t hold out long enough, or if any other memories are disturbed…best case scenario, we both have permanent hallucinations, nightmares, and seizures. As for worst case scenario…we both either end up in a coma, or become completely brain dead.”

                   “Great, just great!” Dean snapped, slamming his fist against the coffee table. Lola flinched slightly, eyeing the puzzle box as the damaged pieces rattled in response to the impact. Cas studied Dean warily as he paced, fingers running down his scalp harshly. He only interrupted the hunter’s fuming when he punched a hole through the nearest wall with an angry shout, the plaster crumbling just as the inside of the box had.

                   “Dean-“ he tried not to take offense when Dean pulled away, anger now directed at the angel instead of the damaged wall.

                   “What, Cas? You gonna try to tell me that everything’s gonna be okay?” he snapped, voice shaking with anger and worry, “’Cause as far as I can see, Sam’s screwed. There are no other options.”

                   “There are _always_ other options, Dean.” Cas cut in. “Just because she can’t do it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there who can. We will find another way.”

                   Dean looked defiantly back to Lola. “How much time does he have? This thing keeps getting worse, right?”

                   She nodded hesitantly before replying, “I’d say he has about a week, give or take a few days depending on how bad his mental state already was.”

                   “Dean, are you telling me that after everything both of you have been through, after all these years of fighting, that you are going to give up on your brother?” Cas asked in disbelief.

                   “I’m not giving up on him, Cas, I just – he could have less than a week. What the hell do we do with that?”

                   “You guys…” Lola interjected, voice trailing off.

                   “It would not be the first time we have accomplished something deemed impossible.” Cas pointed out.

                   “Guys, I think there’s- “

                   “I can’t think of anything, Cas! Rowena is dead. You’re the only angel we’ve got left, and Crowley is gone!”

                   “The warding is- “

                   “Maybe there is something in the bunker, a spell that coul-“

                   “ _Hey_! Dickwads!” Lola shouted. Both looked at her in surprise, Dean mouthing the insult in bewilderment. “We’ve got a problem.”

                   “Is he okay?” Dean said, stepping toward the couch.

                   She shook her head. “Not with him - look.” they followed her gaze to the sigils on the walls – that were now glowing and gradually melting.

                   “What the hell?” Dean mumbled. He walked over to the nearest one and reached his hand out. He proceeded to hiss softly and flinch back, nursing his burnt fingertips. “I thought you said these were protection symbols.” he said as he looked to Cas accusingly.

                   Lola huffed, pulling two engraved silver daggers from the end table drawer and getting into a defensive position. “They are. But SOMEBODY,” she glared pointedly at Dean before pointing to the hole in the wall, “had to go and break the lining for it.”

                   Both turned and finally noticed the circle of red paint, now chipped and broken, with most of the sigil now laying on the floor. Dean had the decency to look ashamed for half a second before they heard a crash from down the hallway. Dean pulled his gun out, tilting his head to Cas as they both snuck towards the beginning of the hallway. Before they could go any further, another crash came from the front door as it all but collapsed. Lola crouched lower, taking a defensive stance partway behind the couch over Sam’s head. Despite this, she was coiled as tightly as a cobra ready to strike, her wary gaze never leaving the white clad demon at the door.

                   “Asmodeus.” Dean snarled. Asmodeus grinned, casually strolling further in until he was beside the couch, less than 3 feet away from his unconscious brother. Dean sucked in a shaky breath, daring to fully turn his attention towards the prince as Cas kept watch of the 3 demons that had appeared from the room down the hall.

                   “Good to see you again, Dean. How about we have a little chat?” Dean raised his gun partway as Asmodeus looked to Lola, who was still protecting Sam.

                   “You,” she growled, “ _you_ took her, didn’t you?”. Dean suppressed the urge to shiver as he picked up on her venomous tone.

                   “Smart one, aren’t you?” his smile was condescending now. He leaned down slightly, eyes turning a cloudy yellow. “But not smart enough to give her up easy, I’m guessing. Where is she?”

                   Where is who?” Dean asked, knowing that Asmodeus was not referring to Lola. The demon raised an eyebrow slightly, looking unimpressed that the response he got was another question.

                   “The girl, of course. I’ve gotta say, I don’t much like what you’ve done to the place since I last came by.” he looked at the walls in disgust, glaring at the symbols currently melted to the point of barely recognizable.

                   Dean studied Lola, too worried to ask who the girl was as the blonde looked to be within an inch of lunging for Asmodeus’s throat. “I should be asking you that, you son of a bitch.” she snarled. He could now see that the engraving on the daggers were glowing a dark purple, the shade matching her eyes as she stared the demon down. She was absolutely still as he pulled away.

                   “Well, can’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” Dean tried not to let doubt get to him as he counted 6 more demons slink through the front door, waiting. Dean pressed his back to Cas’s reassuringly, hands gripping his gun tightly. The next few moments were deafeningly silent, and Dean swore he could hear his own heartbeat, blood rushing to his ears with each passing second.

                   Then, with a snap of Asmodeus’s fingers, all hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all should still be afraid. VERY afraid...
> 
> if you want access to the chapter moodboards, chapter updates, and maybe even some ~spoilers~, go follow me on instagram! My username is Chaossiren103.
> 
> I'll try and have the next chapter up by the end of the month, i promise!


	15. The Twizzler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing?!” she yelled, struggling to open her wings despite the lack of space.
> 
> “You wanna know why they used to call me “The Twizzler” upstairs?” he grinned, voice playful and just loud enough to be heard over the howling wind.
> 
> “Not really!”
> 
> “Did I hear a yes?” she shook her head frantically - he was used to this reaction by now, and it never ceased to entertain him.
> 
> “No!”
> 
> “Alright, here we go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN SO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY COLD, DEAD HEART!  
> let's just say the silver lining of having to evacuate because of Michael (great name) is that i now have the time to write. keeps me from being bored, right?

If there was one stereotypical angelic trait that Gabriel didn’t mind having, it was his wings.

He reminisced on what heaven was like before all the fighting, how he would swoop down, smiling as he listened to the shrieking and laughing of the fledglings from behind him as they tried to keep up with their big brother. He could almost _hear_ Michael yelling at him to slow down before somebody got hurt. Gabriel never even had to face his older brother to know that there was no conviction behind the words. He supposed it was just in Michael’s nature to say such things, being the oldest and all.

He was snapped out of his memories by a loud scream riddled with laughter, the sound not unlike those his brothers and sisters used to make. He felt the small pinpricks of pain as he smiled unconsciously, but it didn’t bother him. He was free, he could still fly, and he had his own little fledgling back. What more could he ask for in that moment?

“Woah there, Julie-bean!” he chuckled, left wings nearly clipping her right ones as she pulled up beside him. He moved over just far enough to flip himself over, crossing his arms and pretending to kick his feet up as he rode the air currents upside down.

“How are you doing that?” she laughed, a loud yelp escaping her as a rather strong gust of air nearly knocked her off balance. He just smiled impishly, moving to parallel her from underneath before tilting his head backwards and diving down, one of his favorite moves when visiting earth all those years ago. He weaved through the clouds, puffs of laughter escaping him as the cool moisture hit his face. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine it was the air itself, the droplets like little ‘welcome back’ kisses. He only opened his eyes when he felt a tingle of awareness shoot through his being, a feeling similar to when somebody prayed to him.

_Gabriel?_ he circled back around, hovering over Juliet. There was a tinge of worry behind the telepathic words, but it wasn’t enough for Gabriel to come down yet.

He remembered one particular incident he’d had with Castiel a number of years ago. He’d taken the fledgling down to earth to let him explore. Gabriel had then proceeded to stay hidden and watch as Castiel frantically looked for him before going back to heaven. Safe to say, it was not QUITE as funny to the other archangels as it was to Gabriel.

He pondered over the memory for a moment; they never had understood his regular need for amusement. Safe to say, this fact was one of many that convinced him to leave in the end.

“Gabriel!” he dipped lower as she started verbally calling for him, the spark of worry increasing with each second. It wasn’t fun, not like it had been with Castiel. He was uncertain as to whether it was because of who she was to him, or if it was simply the lingering paranoia from his imprisonment. No matter what the reason, he resolved to chase the feeling away, before it drew him back into less pleasant memories.

He slowed himself down just enough to fall behind her before shooting forwards, flipping himself upside down once more and grabbing her by the ankle. She shouted in surprise, too off guard to protest as he quickly snapped his wings inwards, causing her own to close. He laughed as she curled against him, fingers in a death grip against his jacket.

“What are you _doing?!”_ she yelled, struggling to open her wings despite the lack of space.

“You wanna know why they used to call me “The Twizzler” upstairs?” he grinned, voice playful and just loud enough to be heard over the howling wind.

“Not really!” she replied, giving up on escaping in favor of curling against the archangel’s chest as tightly as possible.

“Did I hear a yes?” she shook her head frantically - he was used to this reaction by now, and it never ceased to entertain him.

“No!”

“Alright, here we go!” he tuned out the names she was now calling him, focusing on their location. They were almost to her neighborhood, and he knew he had to time it right if he didn’t want to pass it.

When he felt they were close enough, he put all three right wings out, causing them to spin erratically as they hurtled downwards. He couldn’t help but laugh as Jule screamed in shock, now intermittently yelling at him to stop and punching him when she could. Eventually, he snapped the other sets outward, steadying them as they descended.

He wasn’t surprised when, the second they landed on solid ground, she puffed her wings out in an attempt to find balance so she could shove him away. He laughed at her disheveled appearance before tightly wrapping his wings around her, hugging her so she couldn’t attack him or move away.

“Love you too, little one.”

“Piss off.” she snarled, although she had stopped trying to punch him.

“Ah. You were definitely raised by Lola. Such wounding words!” he sighed melodramatically.

“Shut up…” she groaned, beginning to squirm away once more. He grudgingly let her go in favor of studying their surroundings.

They had landed near a small patch of woods, the midafternoon sunlight filtering through the leaves scattered across the branches. The trees gradually receded, revealing a clearing that held a baseball diamond and a small playground. Opposite of the clearing was a wide suburban street, modern-looking brick houses lined up on either side.

Gabriel was resisting the urge to poke fun at how normal everything seemed when his eyes landed on an old slab of metal on wheels, one he would recognize anywhere.

“What is it?” she asked. He opened his mouth to reply before quickly snapping it shut as he recognized something else.

There were demons nearby.

He quickly led Jule to the nearest tree, wings wrapping around them both and turning invisible as they waited.

“Man, what are we even doing here? It’s not like he actually needs our help taking down a couple of hunters!” the voice was nasally, even more so as it dripped with annoyance.

“Hey, those aren’t just any hunters! They’re the Winchesters!” another voice said. This one was deeper, although it may have only sounded that way because of its slightly hushed tone, as if it were afraid of being heard by said hunters.

An ugly huff of laughter followed the exclamation. “So? They’re humans! Hell, one of ‘em is completely blacked out, or so I’ve heard. Why bring us?” Gabriel clenched his teeth and prayed to no one in particular that the voice couldn’t go an octave higher than it just did.

“Because we are expendable, dumbass! You keep sayin’ crap like that, we won’t be around another 10 minutes!” the exasperation of the no longer hushed voice nearly made Gabriel snort in amusement. Ah, demons – he never did believe they were capable of anything. Not until…

He swallowed thickly as he tried to force the flashes of pain down, the feeling of phantom chains around his wrists making him shudder. He could almost guarantee the pair was referring to Asmodeus, and he wasn’t ready to open that can of scorpions. Not yet.

 “C’mon, lets break down the back door.” He snapped out of his reverie as the voices returned, more distant but no less annoying than before.

“There is a perfectly good window right there! Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little vandalism?”

“Both you knuckleheads shut up!” a third voice chimed in. Gabriel heard the telltale sign of glass breaking, followed by rustling as Jule tried to lunge out of their hiding place to run towards the house.

“Dad above, kid! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he hissed, grabbing the arm of her oversized jacket. She turned to glare at him, hands flexing in impatience.

“Sam’s in there! What if he’s the one that’s unconscious?”

“It’s demon gossip, Jule! Besides, he and Dean-o are just a strong as they are reckless. They can handle themselves.” Jule shook her head adamantly, tugging halfheartedly in his grip as he stood up.

“But what if it’s not? What if they aren’t strong _enough_ this time?” her pleading tone struck a chord somewhere within the archangel, although he couldn’t pinpoint why.

“This could be a trap.” he warned, although it was clear to both that his resolve was crumbling. She stared at him hopefully for another 10 seconds before he gave in, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Alright, let’s do it. Stay close – no wandering off. Understand?” she nodded, following him across the street.

They quickly worked their way down the street, using nearby cars and bushes to hide themselves. They made it to the neighbor’s car parked in the street when Gabriel finally put a hand out to stop her. She peered around the car from behind him, tensing in alarm.

Before he could react, she had shot across the front lawn, barreling through the open doorway. Gabriel swore, growling in Enochian about being the only one with any sense of self-preservation before taking out his blade and following her, bracing himself for disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm gonna use my EXTREME amount of free time to get a few chapters ahead, and maybe complete some of my other WIP one shots. we'll see, i guess.
> 
> thank you SO much for your patience, y'all! its been a pretty wild year for me, but that's no excuse for leaving like i did. i'm gonna try to update more frequently, but i cant make any promises.

**Author's Note:**

> any and all feedback is appreciated! until next time!


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